Sinner's Lullaby
by AcquiredMadness
Summary: [Emison AU] One year Emily Fields is a meek, laid-back girl who enjoyed the little things in life with her girlfriend. The next, she's grown into the skin of a cocky and proud womanizer, feeling the notion that she can do whatever she wants with whoever she wants, fearing zero consequences along the way. That is, until she meets a hard to get blonde who doesn't play by her rules.
1. Author's Introduction

One year she's a meek, laid back girl who enjoyed the little things in life like family time, laughter-filled moments with her friends, and romantic nights with her girlfriend.

The next, she's growing into the skin of being a cocky and proud womanizer, feeling the notion that she can do whatever she wants with whoever she wants, fearing zero consequences along the way. Money talks and to her, there's no conversation without it.

One person. Two drastically different personalities. Five years in-between.

Who is Emily Fields?

Coming from a small town in Rosewood, Pennsylvania, after graduating from the Stanford University, Emily Fields joins into the Army similarly as her now veteran father did before she was born. A highly anticipated tour in Afghanistan brings Emily back to the States in not only a peculiar circumstance but with life-changing options left in the palm of her hand. From rethinking where she stood in her life, Emily goes from an Army Ranger to a thriving entrepreneur in the sunny city of Miami, Florida within five years of her last stint of being a part of the US military. During this time she comes across a daring, unapologetic blonde named Alison DiLaurentis who Emily merely sees as another notch under her well-studded belt of women. But when Alison proves herself to be not just any girl that Emily can have, Emily makes it her mission to make her crack. Nobody says no to Emily Fields without eventually caving in. Things heat up between the two when Alison realizes that Emily has an audacious personality of her own, prompting the constant game of cat and mouse to ensue. Will she give into Emily's persistent charm or will Emily burn her hand attempting to capture Alison?

With the same look, same talk, walk, and even laughter, unknowing of her family and friends, the Emily Fields they knew and loved died the hidden caves of Afghanistan.

 **THE FOLLOWING LITERATURE IS RATED M FOR MATURE AUDIENCES.**

 **The nature of the story and its content may be disturbing to some readers. The following features situational environments which could be triggering to those who aren't careful. The amount of mature themes such as: graphic violence, coarse language, crude/dark humor, sexuality, and alcohol/drug use could be seen as offensive.**

 **Reader Discretion Is Advised. Read At Your Own Risk.**

 **Hello. It is your friendly neighborhood Emison writer, AcquiredMadness, here to present to you yet another Emison universe. If this is the first time of us meeting, call me AM for short :)**

 **As you have read a few moments ago, I have added a "Reader Discretion" warning in this introduction. To touch on that a bit more, it is a courtesy caution for you, the wonderful reader, to know that the material you are about to embark on may contain matter in quite a few aspects that you wouldn't want to read. This is the darkest fic that I've written to date and might be the number one darkest in my catalog of stories for a long time. Putting the ball in your court, I am leaving it up to your will and judgement on whether to continue reading past this point or not. I truly cherish every single one of you, even if we've interacted or not, and would hate to see anyone upset by my writing because of no aforementioned warning.**

 **With formalities being understood, another notice that I want to clarify are the first three entries. Those chapters are the prologue to this story, the important past of Emily that needs to be digested in order to have a clue about the present. You are more than welcome to skip it, if wanted. You won't be completely lost if you do so. However, this story is** ** _very complex_** **to not grip as much information as you can. Please forgive me, however, it's a bit on the long side. If I were able to cut and squeeze everything into one chapter to explain things, boy, I would. But that would be cheating everyone out of a slice of the cake.**

 **In the summer of 2016, I came up with a voting poll of which story you, the readers, would like to see our favorite paring submerged in. And by popular demand, the theme of "Cat Mouse" blew the other narratives out of the water.**

 **So today, I dedicate and present to you…**

 ** _Sinner's Lullaby_**


	2. Prologue I – Georgia, 2011

Prologue I – Georgia, 2011

 _Italics means thoughts, emphasized word or action._ **Bolded is a flashback or reading.** (….) is an indication that time has passed.

" _Rock and roll, baby._

 _Don't you know that we're all alone now?_

 _I need something to sing about."_

Short, exerted breaths are forced out as Emily lifts her upper body and jerks her chin above the pull-up bar before bringing herself down. Going up and down with a bit of speed, her back muscles relax and contract through her orange and blue sports bar with every elevation. Sweat streams down her firm abdomen as she can feel her body temperature raise by the seconds. After doing eight more pull-ups, she lowers her body with her arms fully extended and she hangs from underneath the bar. She releases her left limb to suspend with the other, shaking out the cramp that was tensing in her hand as she dangled from side to side like a monkey. Her bass-filled playlist suited for her workout blared through her red and white, over the ear JBL headphones to distract herself from the aches she was feeling all over from two hours of intense exercises.

" _Come on, Fields!_ Don't quit now!"

"She can't do it – I told you she couldn't do it. She's all talk, no muscle."

"Well, she better do it. I have 10 bucks and a double bacon cheeseburger on her."

Five young male rangers, varying from shirtless to wearing sweat-soaked muscle tanks, stand around Emily as they watch her hang from the steel bar for what has been about 11 minutes since she began the exercise. As a friendly competition, a challenged was posed that Emily could not do more than 70 pull-ups in one set without any kipping, also known as a form of cheating one does when they struggle to pull themselves up, causing them to quickly jolt the knees upward to give the boost for another lift above the bar. Thus, using pure strength and capability, Emily took on the challenge to prove herself to her heckling comrades.

She takes in deep breaths through the nose and out the mouth as she tried to get out of her head, trying to ignore the throbbing in her forearms that now started to burn. Bowing her head down, she watches the sweat fall from her forehead and splash onto the cement floor. She kept her eyes low, not looking onto the gawking faces surrounding her, only focusing on the music to keep her going.

With her knees bent and ankles crossed, Emily places her left hand back on the bar and pushes out four more pull-ups before she hangs again.

"That's 67, Em! All you gotta do is three more and you're good!" one of the shirtless men call out as he rubs his white hand towel around the back of his neck. However, through her noise cancelling headphones, she couldn't hear any comments being made towards her. She needed complete concentration with no diversions of any sort if she wanted to accomplish the goal she set for herself.

Switching between arms to hang by, she reaches into the pocket of her Nike gym short and pulls out her phone. Her fingers repeatedly tap the next button on her music player until she finds a loud, motivating song she liked to push her over the edge. Emily shoves her phone back into her shorts, throws her hand up onto the bar, and looks up at the gym's grey ceilings, inhaling one more deep breath before she closed her eyes and pulled herself up for a few more rounds of chin checks.

"Oh _shiiiit!_ " the shirtless ranger excitedly jumps up on his toes with a huge grin on his face, shoving the other comrade to the side as they all watch Emily go past the 70 limit, " _Who's all talk and no muscle?!_ 'Cuz it sure's the hell not Emily Fields!"

The men observe with impressed smirks on their faces while others who were working out tossed a glance in their direction in curiosity from all the commotion that was being made.

Switching between lifting and hanging, lifting and hanging, Emily's body begins shaking as she struggles to do two more pull-ups before she drops on her feet with a grunt. She didn't have a moment to catch her breath before she felt hands on her upper arm from behind. She immediately pulled down her headphones to catch midway of an exclamation being hollered at her.

"- _Fields fucking shit up at 76 pull-ups!_ Got the good form…" the ranger takes his rough hands and jaggedly massages her shoulders in celebration, "not destroying your shoulders, hanging on the bar for about a notable nine minutes…you should try out for Ninja Warrior, man!"

"Why the hell couldn't you stop at 67? Now, I owe Peters a burger." a sweat tank ranger crossed his arms with fake disappointment.

With her quick breathing causing her chest to heave in and out, she cocked her head to the side as she look at the guy with a raised brow, "Someone had to shut that hole in your face, didn't they?"

The surrounding males sound out in _ooh's_ as Emily bent down beside the corner of the pull-up stand and grabbed her water bottle to guzzle down the remaining cold water she had left. After standing around for a few more minutes, listening and talking to the guys, she finally gives a friendly push of the arm to one of them, tiredly parting her goodbyes before she began walking towards the exit. Her legs wobbled her past the lobby of the gym building when all of a sudden Emily felt an immense amount of pressure on her jaw. With every part of her body already sore, she opens and rotates her lower mouth to try to alleviate some of the tension. Throughout her whole pull-up exercise, Emily was clenching her teeth harder and harder with every lift and didn't even realize it.

It wasn't long before the light Georgia breeze greeted her hot, drenched body once she walked through the double doors leading to the parking lot. Clocking out at 8:21am, Emily does quick mental math on how much time she would have to get home, take a shower, change into her uniform, and be inside of her shop before 9:30. She, and everyone else on base, had the choice of catering to their weekly fitness before or after work and for this time around, she chose morning routines just to get them out the way. Pros to that decision is having her evening s solely to herself. Cons? The feeling as if she's two steps away from becoming an aspiring break-dancer by swaying unsteadily and falling onto her knees.

Upon opening her car door, she throws her water bottle into the cup holder, reaches into the passenger seat to grab her hand towel draped on top of the seat, and wipes her face before the sweat that coated her skin fell into her eyes and burned her sight.

…

Once finished with her quick cool shower, blowing out her hair and wrapping it into a tight, braided bun, Emily walks into the warm kitchen of her small purchased home buttoning her uniform jacket down to complete her work attire.

"Good morning, early bird." Emily hears called to her as she bypasses the stove being worked on, exuding great aromas of bacon flooding her nose.

"Morning to you, _Chef Gordon_."

"I would rather be named after Chef Ramsey." Paige transfers a decent amount of eggs from the pan onto a plate before she picked up the dish and a full glass and turned to Emily who pulled out a chair at their dining table to put on her boots. "Gordon is an amateur. Something I'm not."

She places down the plate in front of her girlfriend and in an instant, Emily froze all her movements and enlarged her eyes. Mouth hanging open, her tongue almost rolled down to the floor like an animated cartoon.

"Strawberry banana crepes drizzled in melted hot Nutella with a side of breakfast sausages, bacon, scrambled eggs topped with a pinch of salt and splatter of pepper." Paige places her hands on her hips proudly as she describes her cooking as if she was revealing an award winning plate on an episode of Chopped. "Just as Lieutenant Fields enjoys them."

"You sure know how to spoil a girl." Emily states out with a now seemingly dry throat. She quickly shoves her feet into her boots and ties them without with her eyes leaving the table. Already fully styled in a casual updo, Paige sports a white, button up blouse and dark tight jeans to get her day started. Emily sits back up, closes her eyes with her hands folded in front of her for a rapid three seconds before she grabbed her silverware and dug into her food as if it was her last meal.

Paige laughs to herself with a puzzled, scrunched up face. "What kind of prayer was that?"

"The kind that allows me to demolish this plate in front of me." Emily answers on beat as she cuts into her crepe, shoving it into her mouth before her eyes rolled back and a satisfied hum left her throat. Paige watches on amused while Emily slowly chews, trying to savor every flavor. "I knew there was a reason I dated you." she mutters from the corner of her mouth with a head shake. Unbelievable. This breakfast was heaven. Edible heaven.

Paige silently chuckles as she walks off, heading back into the kitchen to put together her own plate. "So, what's the schedule for today?"

" _Hmm_ …training." Emily floats back to earth with her eyes now opened and her fork reaching for her sausage. "Mostly training these guys then some paperwork that I didn't get to finish yesterday. Luckily, I didn't leave a lot of work for today. It should be an easy breezy Tuesday."

"You know what else is easy breezy?" Paige remarks before turning around to face Emily, making sure she had her attention. She lifts the handle of their sink faucet, causing the water to sputter out like a lawn sprinkler.

"I told you we should hire someone but you _insisted_ that we didn't have to "waste money" and that you could fix it." she turns off the water and then turns it back on for it to continue to spurt out. "Look at it. _Not fixed_."

Emily flips her wrist out in front of her to look at her watch. "Oh geez! Would you look at that?" she grimaces as she rises to her feet. "Time just whizzes on by when you're having fun, doesn't it? I'm going to take this to go and uhhh…I'll call you later."

"Emily-"

"Thanks for the food. You are absolutely _marvelous_ in every way, shape, and form, you know that?" Emily smiles as she quickly walks herself to one of their cabinets that held plastic containers and transferred her breakfast into the tub.

Paige crosses her arms with a stern eyebrow raised at her. "This sink is going to be marvelous in every way, shape, and form tonight because you're not sleeping until it's fixed."

"Sorry, what? I-I can't quite hear you." Emily presses the lid onto the bowl and swipes a plastic fork and knife from the drawer below before she started retreating towards the front door. "I think I still have some water in my ears from the shower."

"I said this-"

"Alright, I love you too! Bye!" Emily lifts her hat and keys from the entryway hanger and unlocks the door to swiftly leave her home to start making her way to work.

…

"Back with that major breaking news out of the White House today: U.S. Special Operations Forces are deploying to Afghanistan with local allies. The White House says the "boots on the ground" in Afghanistan with about 300 troops will be deployed this month along with 50 Special Forces. It comes with an intensified air strike campaign and also so-called Task Force Base in Iraq. White house press secretary Josh Earnest spoke earlier."

"The president has been quite clear that there is no military solution to the problems that are plaguing Afghanistan. There is a diplomatic one. The president has put in place a multi-faceted strategy to degrade and ultimately destroy. A large part of the troops' mission will be to train Afghan forces to take over the fight against the Taliban and defend their country's security. With most of the Taliban now in Pakistan, the president emphasized the need for a continued partnership with the government in Islamabad. At West Point, President Obama said Afghanistan is not lost, but has been moving backwards for several years. He said al-Qaida is planning new acts of terror from its safe havens along the Afghanistan-Pakistan border, with the support of the Taliban."

The TV overhead on one of the walls fills the entire shop floor as Emily walks through the double doors. It takes people standing around, staring up at the news for Emily's attention to shift up at the TV as well.

"We must deny al-Qaida a safe haven, said President Obama. We must reverse the Taliban's momentum and deny it the ability to overthrow the government. And we must strengthen the capacity of Afghanistan's security forces and government, so that they can take lead responsibility for Afghanistan's future." The press conference changes back to the lead woman at CNN networks breaking the story.

"The 30,000 additional troops that they are announcing tonight will all deploy by the end of 2012 – the fastest pace possible – so that they can target the insurgency and secure key population centers, President Obama said earlier."

Few soldiers mumble their comments among each other as Emily glances around, capturing the reactions of those around her before she walks into her office. Hearing about the new operation in Afghanistan isn't really surprising, however, 30,000 troops being deployed was a pretty impressive number. Impressive in a tragic way. The talk of deployment always causes a buzz of chatter whenever it's that time but the thought doesn't particularly sit with her immediately. She's heard quite a few of these deployment news and never had to worry because her line of work wasn't called for. They need 30,000 troops, not Special Forces.

"You smell that, Lieutenant Fields?" a tawny-brown skinned, young male pops his head through the door, taking a large whiff of the air. This makes Emily turn around in her seat as she opens her water bottle and takes a sip.

"Looks like we're having pussy for breakfast."

Emily chokes on the water flowing down her throat at the random choice of words coming from this cheeky soldier. "Wh- _what?"_

The rest of his body follows as he steps into the doorway with a small smile on his face. "Training is about to start. We gotta finish breaking these bitches in. I don't know about you but today…" his small smiles extends out to a large, suspicious grin as he nods his head. "I'm feeling extra _niceeeee_."

Emily shakes her head with a small eye roll, turning back to her desk and opening one of her drawers in search for something. "Sergent Haynes, I told you about smoking before coming into work. It rots your brain cells."

" _C'mon_ , Fields! Volunteering to train young bucks for a few hours? Be joyful! At least we're not out doing detail like everyone else." he leans against the door frame with his arms crossed. "I rather be out there showing privates how it's done than to be out there cleaning and fixing trucks all damn day. Plus, tomorrow we have water training. Let's at least _try_ to enjoy our small break!"

….

Outside in the near fall weather of the August morning, Emily a handful of other leaders command a training exercise for about 200 young, hopefuls trying to get into the infantry side of Army. Being an Infantryman Officer, Emily and one other woman made history by being the first females to ever pass and become a certified Ranger in the military. Women have never been allowed to be on front lines nor be in Special Forces, only leaving those jobs for men, but with enough push, the Defense Secretary announced that all combat jobs would be opened to women.

However, this decision wasn't met with open arms. Eighty-five percent of men surveyed from US Special Operations Command said they opposed allowing women into their specialties. _"It's a slap in the face telling us that chicks can do our jobs,"_ Emily overheard a solider say in small talk when she first began training, not thinking she could hear. Despite the majority of men against her at first, after being able to prove she could hold her weight and the weight of her fellow soldiers, she quickly changed the opinion of a good amount. Seeing that she was able to beat out the 42% graduation rate and 1/3rd of men who drop out before day five, she pretty much made a name for herself.

Once passing Ranger school, applying, and being accepted into the elect combat regiment, the men at the Army's base, Fort Benning, were very accepting of Emily into their Special Ops circle. However, she still deals with minor pushback and snark from alpha males that still believe a woman should stick to their places. But all that talk does is pushes her to become one of the best Rangers this base has ever fucking seen. She didn't earn her rank of First Lieutenant and enter The 75th Ranger Regiment, one of the most lethal, elite, and agile forces in the military, by painting nails and winging eyeliner. She doesn't mind the whispers but when you see her black and red uniform patch that reads " _75 Ranger Rgt"_ on her arm, it already tells you you're talking to a badass.

"Left…. _FACE_! Forward… _MARCH_!"

The single platoon of 50 soldiers begin to march forward, however, with some stepping off the wrong feet, walking too quickly or two slow, the group of young cadets start off rough in getting in formation before Emily yells out a few "woahs!" to stop everyone.

"What the hell was that?" Emily walks up the side of the platoon, staring through her black sport shades at all of the soldiers standing and looking forward. "I don't remember giving the command _clusterfuck march._ "

"If you guys can't pick up your feet correctly, how can we trust you with a damn weapon?" another instructor asks as looks up and down in disbelief to the circus he just witnessed. The group of privates keep their eyes forward before Emily gives them orders to adjust their formation so that they can begin marching again. Second time around is much better when Emily marches the platoon towards one of their gas rooms. She and her people are the heart of the Army when it comes to combat so that means they cannot afford to have any weak links anywhere. Even if they have to break people down just for them to come back stronger and ready, that is a precaution they are willing to make.

Four sections of 50 armed soldiers in each platoon stand at attention as Emily and the other instructors stand before them, giving them directions for the nuclear, biological, and chemical portion of their training.

"You will walk in, stay on the right side of the wall and then when it's your turn to head out, you're gonna move in and come out the left side. If you drop your equipment, once it hits the ground, you just earned yourself a second time around." Emily looks around at the 200 fresh faces, knowing they weren't going to be so fresh in 10 minutes. She presses out her firm voice once again to reiterate herself.

"I will repeat again: If you your equipment touches that floor, you will go inside that chamber for a second time. Do I make myself clear?"

" _HOOAH!_ " a crisp roar echoes out from all the male soldiers standing in front of her.

"The goal of this training is to teach you how to react to chemical and biological weapons and to help you gain confidence in their equipment." Another instruction strolls past Emily with his hands behind his back as he takes the floor to briefly explain the reasoning of this particular training. "Even though we don't have this type of threat all the time, y'all as soldiers could run across something suspicious in Iraq or Afghanistan, like a chlorine bomb, and you need to know how to properly react to it."

With this experiment, the soldiers are put in a sealed room, filled with tear gas, where they enter with their masks on. When fully shut inside, they are forced to remove their masks and are made to exercise, answer questions, recite the infantry creed, and/or any number of other things to ensure they are breathing deep. Once the mucus is flowing and the heart is going, they get to exit the gas chamber and run laps with their arms out, which helps expose their skin to the air and remove any traces of the contaminant. However, if you screw up or let any of your equipment touch the ground, you will go again for a second round and will continue redoing it until everything is done correctly.

 _Chamber of Horrors_ , what many call it.

Coming right after college graduation, when Emily was in-basic training, standing in that very formation with instructors breathing down her neck two years ago, she remembers exactly what they were putting the newbies through.

And it was _the worst_ thing she's ever experienced in her life.

" **Fields, let's go! You're up!"**

 **A thick fog filled the medium sized room as a coffee can filled with CS pellets burned, officially turning it into a gas chamber. Emily's heart thumps against her chest in uneasiness as the time to face the music became hers. She placed her hands over her gas mask, telling herself to remain calm while the sounds of her fellow masked brothers clap to cheer her on.**

" **C'mon, man!"**

" **Get some balls, Fields!"**

" **You can do it!"**

 **Emily takes in a huge breath and rips her gas mask off, looking straight ahead at her instructor.**

" **I am the Infantry! I am my country's strength in war!" she shuts her eyes tightly as the strong gas seeps inside, burning the sensitive tissue. "Her deterrent in peace! I am the heart of the fight - wherever, whenever! I carry America's faith and honor against her enemies! I am the Queen of Battle!" Doing its job, rapidly starting to attack the mucus membranes in her eyes, nose, mouth and lungs with every breath Emily takes in, she begins to cough as she fights herself to get through the creed she had to memorize and, ultimately, live by.**

" **I am what my country expects metobe! The best trained solider in the world! In the race for victory, I am swiftdeterminedandcourageous! Armed with a fierce will to win!" As her face starts to glisten, her mouth begins to water unbelievably fast, making the already speedy attempt to finish her creed difficult as she feels that she's now choking.**

" **Neve….Never will I betray my country's trust! Always I fight on - through the foe! T…To the…To the objective-" A massive amount of saliva spills out of Emily's mouth and slides down her chin. She begins to gasp in the infested air as the large buildup of spit in her mouth blocks her way of talking clearly. But she has to keep going.**

" **To triumph over all! If necessary, I will fight to my death! By my steadfast courage, I have won 200 years of freedom!" she spits out a disgusting wad, making her fellows yell out with woo's and clapping. The gas was really kicking her ass as she stood there at attention with her eyes painfully shut, her face red, and thick loads falling out of her mouth like toddler but she kept fighting through it with her voice firm and loud.**

" **I yield not to weakness! To hunger!" she gasps.**

" **To cowardice!"**

 **Gasp.**

" **To fatigue!"**

 **Gasp.**

" **To superior odds! For I am mentally tough! Physically strong! And morally straight!" she spits again then tilts her head up towards the ceiling, her face visibly weakening as she looks like she's about to cry.**

" **I forsake not my country! My mission! My comrades! My sacred duty! I am relentless! I am always there! Now and forever! I AM THE INFANTRY!** _ **FOLLOW ME!**_ **" she belts out with a powerful roar before she caves in and bends over. The other soldiers scream out with her in celebration, patting her back and shaking her as they're all proud that she made it through. Her instructor grabs her by the upper arm and forcibly drags her out of that tight circle, pulling her towards the exit doors as a long waterfall drops from her mouth, panting out desperately for the hell to end.**

"Go to the left!"

"Get your head up! Stand up!"

"Keep walking!"

"Go left! Do I need to speak it in Spanish to you?! Go left!"

"That way!" Emily grabs a boy's backpack and yanks him in the left direction towards a wall while the other leaders direct the blind mice, spewing body fluids, to where they needed to be through their shouting. For those who successfully went through the chamber without failing or letting their equipment drop, they were able to go straight and get rid of the gas. If you were unsuccessful, you were hurdled to the left, back in line for another round of the treatment.

"Let's go." a man decked out in full gas gear stands at the open door to the room, waving the rejects in. Due to them trying to find themselves through the hacking and spitting, they are slow to move to the orders. "Let's go!" he yells a bit louder. Still, barely any movement. "LET'S! GO! What the fuck is wrong with you?! Get in there!" he pushes the first soldier into the room as the line of unfortunate men follow after him.

…..

"Let's go! Open your eyes! Blink!"

"You! To the left!"

"Come on, straight ahead!"

A young male holding his rifle barely up stumbles a few steps past Emily before she grabbed him and pulled him to the left wall. "Nice try," she comments to the same boy she pulled aside the last time. "I warned you to not lower your weapon. It's a gun not a cane. Up against the wall."

…..

Same rhythm is repeated with soldiers staggering out with their rifles and gas mask held up in their hands. Some were told to go straight while others went _yet again_ back to the line. This process happens about eight more times, with different platoons heading in at different times. However, it seems to be a pattern with certain privates that just won't do it right the first time. Or the second. Or the fifth.

"You want it to stop?! Hm!" one of the leaders tower over a soldier who kept screwing up a task that they're only exposed to for two minutes. "You think when you're overseas and the enemy throws a fucking gas explosive on you that they're gonna stop, drop, roll, just because you're crying?! NO! THEY WANT TO FUCKING KILL YOU, PRIVATE! DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT?! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!"

Emily and Sergent Haynes, her fellow from earlier in the office, stand over a male who was crouched over and refused to stand up no matter how many times they told him to. They yelled over and over for him to stand on his feet but patience wore thin from both sides when they grabbed a piece of his backpack and pull him up instead. Slime dripped out of his nose onto the dirt of the ground as they walked him to the wall.

"That's what you get for being all fucked up. Since the day you got here, you been all fucked up. And now you fucked up your sight. Good for you. Maybe this time you'll learn." Sergent Haynes tells him as Emily grabs his arm and lifts it up higher.

"Private, all you gotta do is keep your rifle up! That's it!" she tries to encourage him. She knows how torturous it is but they cannot be easy on them by any means. If they can't follow simple directions, then they have to keep doing it until they get it right.

…

Knocking out those 5 hours of hardcore training in the heat still lingering over from the summer, Emily gets into the cool air-conditioned shop and plops herself onto her desk chair in her office. Who would have known that teaching was just as tiring as performing? She pulls her cell out of her pants pocket and wakes it up, flashing up her lock screen of her and Paige. Both wearing black blouses, Emily leaned up against Paige with her arm around her shoulder and Paige holding Emily's waist as they both smile happily at the camera. A faint grin creeps onto Emily's face as she stares at the screen.

Paige and Emily has had history with each other ever since freshmen year of college. Coming out of a long term relationship with her girlfriend in high school, which ended on neutral waters of going different directions, Emily met Paige at Stanford University and they haven't looked back ever since. She was there through the stressful days of schooling, graduation, and decided to stick her through Emily's decision to join the Army. Where most girlfriends would feel finicky about their partner joining the military and having to follow after them despite where their dream was, Paige held Emily's hand and moved her life with her to Georgia where they settled down and started creating their lives together with their first brought home. Emily couldn't be any more grateful because enduring this new chapter in her life with no one would have terrify her. She didn't want to date around. She needed someone who would hold the fort down when she's away.

And that was Paige.

Locking the screen, Emily places her phone on her desk and makes herself comfortable in her chair. If she wanted to be out by 5pm, she would have to start attacking her paperwork now. She leans forward and switches on her portable radio sitting on her desk and keeps the volume low to keep her cubicle from being silent. She takes her military ID card out of her wallet and enters it into the Access Card reader to start up her computer. First things first: checking her emails for anything from her superiors before she jumps into her desk work.

" _-cause the word is never gonna come out! Now…L-o-v-e's just another word I never learned to pronounce!_ That was 3OH!3 featuring Katy Perry with "Starstrukk". We got the whole hour with nonstop radio, no commercials, and right now we're gonna throw you another bop! This is "Obsessed" by Mariah Carey with all the hits you need, 24/7, Hit Nation!"

Emily nods her head to music as she clicks around her computer, reading off schedules and announcements sent to everyone.

"Hm…Barbeque…" she says softly to herself as she reads an email forwarded by one of soldiers in her regiment. "Pool party and barbeque this Saturday for….Captain Tyrell? You don't have to tell me twice." she giggles softly as she hits reply to add her name to the reservation list. She knows how this whole thing goes: if you come to a gathering, you have bring something to the table. She pouts as she thinks of a possible-

" _Fields_." a voice snaps Emily's attention to the door when Haynes makes another appearance. "We're being called into briefing."

"Briefing?" Emily slowly stands up, confused at his words. "There wasn't announcement for a briefing."

"It was just called now, c'mon." the young male takes off jogging down the hallway with Emily trailing behind with a quickened step, still lost. She and Haynes get into the briefing room and they see six other fellows who all turn to their direction as soon as they walk in.

"Why are–woah…." Haynes trails off upon seeing who they encountered. "Uhm…where is everyone else? Are we early?"

One of the soldiers shrugs. "CO said 1540. Ain't nobody else showing up it looks like."

Emily checks her watch and sees the blue electronic number, 1539. She steps up from behind Haynes. "Did he specify why we're being called in?"

"I dunno. But to be honest, I heard that Levi forgot-"

"Soldiers! Fall in!"

Without the brain being able to compute another action, everyone aligns in a line formation, standing tall with their eyes straight, bodies stiff, and hands held at their sides in a light fist. The steps of boots gradually make their way towards the group before an older, middle aged man stood in front of them. Although her eyes were focused strictly straight ahead at the wall opposite of them, she could see out of her peripherals that the commanding officer's face was hard and tense, which only means what he came barring was nothing good.

"At ease." the man ordered with a softer voice this time. The soldiers move their left foot about 10 inches to the left of the right foot while simultaneously placing their hands at the small of their back. They all turn their heads and eyes directly toward the CO, ready for whatever he had to say.

"As you guys probably heard today, there have been some brand new information on the direction of where we are and what's to come." he looks at every induvial as with frowned brows and a tight jaw. "There has been a list of names sent out this morning and you eight have been selected from this battalion to head out to Afghanistan."

Emily's throat instantly tightened and with a silent inhale she took. She tried with everything in her to control her eye size because she didn't want to give away her reaction towards this announcement.

"We are high priority so that means after this moment right now, by Monday morning, you should have already arrived at your station. Which means you're flying out in the early hours of Saturday morning. Three days to get everything in order and leave, which should be already set, correct?

" _Hooah_." a firm confirmation is sounded from everyone along with Emily's weak call out that mixed in. She blinked several times at a rapid speed while she kept her focus on her superior, however, it seemed like her sight was blurring. Being deployed was one thing, but to be out of the country and into a warzone before this week ends was surreal to her. Suddenly the "No-Notice Deployment" became very real.

"I know this is short notice but this is what you guys signed up for. I'm cutting you guys out today early so you can get a head start on getting clearance from medical, get your records, uniforms, and everything out of the way. By Friday night, I expect you guys to be already asleep for Saturday. Have dinner at 2pm if you have to. Understood?"

" _Hooah_."

"All except for Master Sergent Roland here, who has already been deployed before…." the CO nods his head and sets his eyes on everyone for a second before he locks eyes with Emily, a soldier standing tall and ready on the outside. He clicks his tongue with a tilt of his head. "You all are about to meet the _War on Terror_ and what an ugly bitch she is. Welcome to Operation Shadow Hunters, soldiers."

…..

Emily slinks back to her isolated cubicle of an office with a manila envelope in her hand and a rock in her stomach. Now, some would say, _why sign up for the military if you don't want to go to war?_ For Emily, it's the just the initial realization that her world will be drastically changing _within days._ Ever since she joined, the moment of deployment was something that would always float around in the back of her mind. After all, she has trained for this moment. All the PowerPoint briefings, lectures, kit issues, and training exercises, day in and day out, have morphed her body and brain for the day. At light speed, countless scenarios play out in her head, most of them being solely on the culture portrayal of war because until that point, despite being a soldier, she had no other frame of reference.

 _War on Terror…_

 _Afghanistan…_

 _Operation Shadow Hunters…_

 _What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Emily…_

"This is it!" Haynes comes into Emily's space grinning ear to ear, smacking the envelope with his backhand. "This is _fucking_ it. The moment we've been training for. Oh, how I've dreamed of this day…" he leans his body against the wall with his hands extended, the child-like smile still lingering on his face. Emily merely shakes her head at him with a forced smile of her own.

"You're really excited for someone who is going into a high-level warzone."

" _You kidding me?_ I'm above excited. I'm fucking high right now, man." Haynes pushes himself off the wall and walks over to Emily's desk, taking a seat at the edge, "Coming from a small ass, rural town in Ohio, the most adventurous thing I did growing up was sneaking out to meet city girls. I was projected to be a nobody, working in my uncle's garage for who knows how long and never getting out of that shithole. Probably find a decent girl who wasn't getting out either, get all sappy, marry her and have three kids. And just repeat that cycle for them. Now look at me." Haynes leans into Emily with a laugh with his hands out, gesturing to himself. "Not only in the Army, not only a Ranger, but a damn Army Ranger in the 75th Regiment like…this is us, Em."

Emily nods her head silently as her gaze falls down to her envelope in her hands. Haynes' bright smile slowly fades to appreciative one. He lightly taps Emily's arm with his envelope. "You should be feeling it too. You're going to be one of, if not, _the_ first woman to fight in combat in U.S. history. That's _so_ badass. _So badass!_ " he repeats with enthusiasm flowing through his body. He couldn't help how passionate he got towards things but the best aspect about that is he can take that same energy and brighten a dark room with it. Although doubtful before, Emily looks up at him as his positivity starts to successfully rub off.

"Your name is going to be in the history books for your kids, my kids, and _millions_ of other kids to learn about years from now. _Don't you feel that?"_ he nudges her, trying to get her to smile. To understand the severity of his words."I feel honored to be even speaking to you, let alone being friends with you. I'm gonna be like, _yeah! Yeah, I know Emily Fields! That's my fucking sister!_ " he softly calls out as he pretends to be yelling at someone. " _Fuck all of you telling stories! You don't know her like I know her! Heyheyhey, back up grandma! I'm the number fan of the Emily Fields fan-club, you better get in the back of the line like everyone else!"_

Emily chuckles out a laugh, allowing Haynes to fully get to her and distract her from her current mind frame. This pitch of laughter made him feel better internally because he was trying hard to get Emily to break. He couldn't have his right hand fellow and friend down especially if he could help it.

"This is our first deployment and, hey, I know it's gonna be scary but you're not going alone. You got others right here from the battalion and you got me. And I'll tell you what," he stands to his feet, gripping his envelope in one hand and holding out his other towards Emily. He looks down at her with a beam of sincerity flashing from his light brown eyes. "I will never leave you behind. You can take my word on that."

Emily looks in front of her at his hand for a second before she grasped it and stood up, standing face to face with him as they firmly locked hands.

"Your word is my word. I will never give up on you, either."

"That's what I'm fucking talking about. That _bond_. That _strength_. _Uhhh_!" Haynes groans with a small lean back and a scrunched up face, shaking Emily's hand before he let her go. "Powerful. But uhm, where are you heading to first to get this checklist done?"

Emily pulls her phone out of her pocket with her eyes raised up to the celling, pouting out her bottom lip as she thought to herself. "Maybe medical? Get all that out the way since that's gonna be one of the major pain in the asses."

"Medical it is. I'll drive you over there."

"Okay, I just gotta check something."

"Alriiight. You know where the car is." Haynes calls over his shoulder as he slides his way out of Emily's office and out of sight. With all this new information being piled on her, Emily's first instinct was to call Paige and tell her what was going on. However, when she dialed her number, she stopped. If Emily knows Paige as well as she does, this timing while she's still at work would not be the wisest choice. The last thing she wanted to do was to cause a freak-out and then leave her hanging for hours until she got home. But…it would at least give her time to process everything…

Blindside at work or blindside at dinner?

Work?

Dinner?

Work?

Dinner?

Emily contemplates for a few moments before she places her phone back into her pocket.

 _I hope she likes lasagna and a side plate of 'breaking news on war' with a cup of 'holy shit' for tonight._

….

 _Ring…_

 _Ring…_

 _Ri-_

" _Haaaaaaay baaaaabe!_ Where the hell have you been?"

Emily smiles to herself hearing the peppy voice as she stands outside a bricked building. Slowly bypassing a person who seemed to be on their smoke break, she maintains kicking a rock in her path as she tries her best to slide into this conversation.

"Work, work, work, and more work." she forces herself to exhale a laugh to not give away her riddled nerves.

Hanna scoffs uncaringly. "Yeah whatever. Anyways, how is my most favorite lover in the whole wide world?"

" _Actually_ ….I came baring a bit of news…"

"Oooh, I like news. Hit me. What's the town's latest gossip? I've been dying for a follow-up ever since you told me about that one guy getting caught drunk on the job. I _neeeed_ an update."

"Well, update on that: he's been dishonorably discharged from the military and most likely heading to serve some time right now."

"Damn-"

"But I have good news and bad news." Emily winces as if Hanna was standing right in front of her.

" _Oh fuck_." A long exerted sigh was made on the other end of the line. Emily could almost seee Hanna rubbing her temples while she spoke. "Fuck, this couldn't be a good and wholesome call, huh? Alright. What is it?"

"Good or bad first."

"I don't care, just spill it."

"Well, good news is that we're might be able to see each other as soon as in the next days..." Emily trails off as softly as possible before the bomb dropped.

"Really?! How? Why! What happened?!" the groan of a voice turned into a hyper child-like excitement to this 'news'. With Hanna living on the east coast in New York and Emily lived in the southern parts of Georgia, seeing each other is a lot more complicated then driving five minutes to each other's house after school. The last time Hanna saw Emily was about a year ago during her Ranger school graduation. It's been randomly Face Timing ever since. Emily closes her eyes tightly with her teeth clenched. She takes a few seconds before she slowly released her other news.

"….I just was told by my commanding officer that I am being deployed overseas to Afghanistan."

Emily squeezes her left eye as she opens her right, waiting for some kind of reaction from the other end. The call stays silent for a few more seconds before a barrage of intelligible words were garbled out in an attempt to formulate some kind of sentence that was having a bit of challenge creating. Emily listens on as Hanna tries to talk but it sounded like she was having a computer glitch and couldn't communicate correctly so Emily continues on.

"The reason I'm calling you is because I'm leaving Saturday morning. This way, with me telling you immediately, it will give you the most time possible to book a flight if you wanted to see me before I leave."

"If I wanted to see you-of course I'm going to see you before you leave! What kind of _shit_?" Hanna finally yells out with her first statement after the news. Shortly after, more groans and sighs are released but more desperate and concerning than before. "Oh my god…Afghanistan? Fucking Afghanistan? This week?!"

"Unfortunately…" Emily kicks the rock in front of her into a patch of grass before she turns and looks up at the sky.

"How is that even?! Oh my god, I have to cancel appointments, call-in work, call Caleb. I-I have to stop everything! The flights! Oh my god, how am I gonna hack this?"

"I'm sor-"

"Hold on, hold on, that's Caleb calling right now-"

"Go ahead and answer it. I just wanted to give you the heads up."

"Thanks for this fucked heads up. I'm gonna tell him and check around to see what I can do, okay?"

"Alright."

"I'll text you later on."

"Ok, bye."

"Bye."

Hanna ends the call before Emily was able to, leading her to her contact screen. She blows out air with a small shake of her head as she scrolls down her list.

 _One down, two more to go…_

 _Ring…_

 _Ring…_

 _Ring…_

 _Ring…_

 _Ring…_

"Hello, this is Toby Cavanaugh's phone and unfortunately I am unable to answer your call."

As the voicemail continues, Emily quickly debated within herself to leave Toby a voicemail or to just text him instead. Noting that he would see a text right away compared to a voicemail that could be left unheard for who knows how long, Emily hangs up the phone and opens his conversation instead.

Today 5:37pm

Emily: Hey Tobs. I just wanted to let you know that the day has finally came and I've been notified that I'm heading out to Afghanistan this Saturday. I'm tossing out this invite because I would really like to see you before I leave. Any time before Friday night would be prefect. If you can't make it I totally understand as well because this is an extremely short notice. Just promise to call me before then and we can have an hour chat or something lol. Hit me up when you can.

She rereads over her text a couple times before she hit send. She then backs out of the conversation and taps back to the call screen.

 _And now for the hardest call of all…_

Emily bounces back and forth on her toes as she tries to pick who should be next. Should she break the news to her mother or to her father? Wayne seemed like the logical choice but, at the same time, a part of her wanted to hear her mother's voice when she breaks it to them. While her father would give her advice and try to calm her spirits, he would sound more like one of her commanders rather than the nurturing advice from her mother. They have dealt with this many times before so she should know what to say, right? A few cars come in and out of the parking lot she stood before until she finally makes her choice. With her luck, they'll both be there so it'll be easier.

 _Ring…  
Ring…  
Ring…_

" _Ah_. Is this Lieutenant Fields? Calling me? My phone?"

The sound of her father and his everlasting sense of happiness whenever they talk makes Emily feel warm despite the anxious feeling she has. "Hey, dad." she smiles as she looks down at her boots.

"Hey, sweet pea. How are things going over there in the land of Georgia?"

"So far, so good. Not too hot but we're not getting that cold breeze either so I would say we're doing alright."

"Good, good. That's what I like to hear."

"I got some news that I wanted to share, actually." Emily finds herself laughing as she turned and began walking the length of the sidewalk. There was no immediate response after three seconds so she pushes on. "Do you wanna know what it is?"

 _Silence._

"What? No guesses?"

Emily gives it a few more seconds before she went to speak again. However, this time her father beat her to the punch. "You're leaving….aren't you?"

"Yes sir." Emily lets out a wry chuckle. "Front and center in Afghanistan….How did you know?"

Wayne sighs out tiredly, for once hating that he was right. "I heard about it on the radio today while I was driving. About 30,000 troops set for deployment. But the moment I heard that 50 Special Ops were also being called over there….let's just say that I was praying that you weren't going to call your mother and I any time soon unless it was a casual conversation."

" _Welp_ , I think your prayers were blocked somehow while getting up to the big man." she looks over her shoulder towards the building entrance just in time to see Haynes approach the doors and wave her over. She raises a hand at him before she moves to wrap up her conversation. "So, I leave this Saturday and I was hop-"

"We're coming." Wayne firmly steps in without another second to waste. "You don't even have to say anything else. Your mother and I will be there for you."

Emily squeezes her lips tightly for an appreciative smile, nodding her head to herself. "Thank you. I, uh, I have to go back inside but I wanted to let you know what was going on. Gently break it down to mom for me?"

"Will do. Go ahead and start checking off that checklist. Anything you're unsure about or just need help, you call me. Things tend to get really hazy with all the paperwork and can be very overwhelming for the first time so if you need advice, I'm here."

"Thank you. I love you, dad."

"I love you too, Emmy. Talk to you later."

"Ok. Bye."

"Bye."

…

A fork scraps against a plate while picking up a piece of meaty lasagna as Paige chews, silently listening on to Emily's phone conversation in the kitchen. She didn't want to start dinner without Emily at the table but she insisted her to eat. There was something particularly off about Emily when she got home, Paige thought to herself. This morning she was pretty light and full of smiles but mid-day, she seemed occupied, and even now being at home, there appears to be some kind of weight on her that she wasn't voicing. It concerned Paige because when Emily gets into her moods, it's normally something that's really bothering her.

Emily finally ends her call and checks her messages one more time before she grabbed her plate and walked over to the dining room with her manila envelope in her hand. Paige curiously chews as she watches Emily sit next to her.

"Did everything go okay?"

" _Hm?_ " Emily hums, coming out of her thoughts and putting her attention on her girlfriend.

Paige points at her specifically with a nod at her packet. "Work. Is everything alright? You seem tense."

Emily looks down at the envelope. She didn't want prolong this conversation any longer than she already has. Just about everyone close to her knows about her news except Paige and now was the time to put it out in the open so they can do what they have to do to deal with it.

"This is, uh…this is paperwork-"

Paige groans with her head tilted back, "I can already feel your drainage." she knew Emily had paperwork to finish at work but it looks like she had to bring her work home. The exhaustion she probably feels.

"Well, put it to the side and let's enjoy dinner. It's not going to disappear 30 minutes from now." Paige sweetly smiles at her before she picks up another piece of lasagna.

"It's _my_ paperwork..." Emily continues on as her fingers lightly tap on the envelope with her eyes staring at her plate. "Medical…Insurance…Power of Attorney…Will…" Emily lifts her head to see Paige's face become less sweet and more puzzled. She bites the inside of her cheek.

"I got orders today that I'm leaving for Afghanistan. Me and six other guys from the battalion. I've been running around all day because I have to be on the plane by Saturday morning."

"Wh-wha-what Saturday?" Paige hastily shakes her head, raising up both hands as to pause. To understand what Emily is telling her. "Which Saturday-Saturday when?"

"This Saturday." Emily confirms in a low and exhausted voice.

"You're leaving for Afghanistan in….in 4 days?!"

"Before I am able to head out, I have to go through this checklist of things to take care of." Emily solemnly informs a still stunned Paige who had pushed her plate away while Emily pulled out an assortment of papers. "I have good news and bad news…"

"Well, I wonder what the hell is worse than hearing you're going to fucking Afghanistan. Oh my God." Paige rubs her face with a long groan before her fingers found themselves lodged in her hair. Emily looks at her patiently as she waits for an answer. Paige stares back, both having a moment of silence before she let out another sigh.

"I rather just get the bad news over with. I…..I don't know…."

"Bad news..." Emily repeats with a slight trail off as she looks down at the table. Her food is probably going to be cold by the time she starts eating it. "Bad news is that the military doesn't recognize relationships unless it's a marriage. So technically, although we've been together for years, I'm stamped as single under legal terms."

" _Yeah, Okay_ …."

"That means you have no rights. _To anything_." Emily glances back up in Paige's direction. "You have no rights to enter the base, no rights to my finances, no rights to any documents, no rights to make any decisions, you don't even have the rights to get any information regarding me overseas."

Paige leans back into her chair as she crosses her arms, not sure about what Emily's is telling her. "What the hell does _that_ mean?"

"Let's say, God forbid, I get injured or die over there, you would think because we are in a relationship, the military will notify you. Well, they don't and they won't. My parents will find out everything before you will and you will have to rely on them for any dire information on my well-being. Even at the funeral. When they fold the flag and give it to the family, that's exactly who will be recognized. My family. My parents. You'll just be seen as the grieving girlfriend but that's as far as it goes. You will not receive any financial or any other type of assistance if the worst was to happen."

"So, I'm invisible. That's what you're telling me."

Emily empathetically shrugs with a long, tired face. "They don't have time to chase after relationships and girlfriends and boyfriends. You're either the spouse or you're a nobody."

Paige groans as she know leans forwards again, putting her hands onto her face. Emily feels her energy. Just repeating that information hurt her. Just to know that Paige is virtually nonexistent and will be in the dark for at least five months is unfathomable to her. She knows if it were the opposite way around, she would go crazy every single day not knowing anything about Paige's safety. She would probably have her parents on speed-dial, calling constantly.

"But luckily we have a few options." Emily's voice raises an optimistic pitch as she scouts in closer to the table. Paige picks up on that minor change of tone and perks up just a bit as well as she watches Emily go through some of her papers. "I got a general Power of Attorney and I can list you as the primary so it'll grant you the right to make legal and financial decisions on my behalf like the house for example. And since I'm getting monthly extra pay for being out there, we can create a joint banking account so you can get the money to help out while I'm gone."

Emily slides Paige a few various sheets regarding what she's talking about and she couldn't be any more overwhelmed by this sudden bombshell of news. Her girlfriend's voice slowly begins to drown out to the background as her eyes start to connect with the words on the papers. With the font so little and word count so many, she feels like she's looking at a printed version of a terms & conditions agreement.

 _ **If the time comes when I am incapacitated to the point when I can no longer actively take part in decisions for my own life, and am unable to direct my physician as to my own medical care, I wish this statement to stand as a statement of my wishes.**_

 **I,** **Emily Catherine Fields** **, the author of this document, request that, if my condition is deemed terminal or if I am determined to be permanently** **unconscious, I be allowed to die and not be kept alive through life support systems.**

 **I have reviewed and completed this document in order to give instruction and requests for my funeral and burial.**

 **I do/I do not wish to donate my body/my organs. (Specify which and to whom, if relevant)**

 **The religious observances will be: _**

 **I want: an open casket [ ] a closed casket [ ] to be cremated [ ]**

" _Hey_." Emily gently reaches for Paige's hand. Looking like she's growing paler as the minutes go by, Emily needed to get her attention from all of the blaring confusion so they can process each and every little thing together.

"We will get through this. Okay?" Emily massages Paige's hand within her own as she looks deep into her eyes. She could see the puzzlement and unease overtaking her and the only thing Emily wanted to do is soothe her in her last few days.

"There have been many of times my dad left us but as long as you have faith and a good support system, you will survive it. _We_ will survive this." Emily pulls their hand towards her lips and places a gentle kiss on the back of Paige's hand, not breaking their eye contact. "I promise."

…..

Emily leans forward off to the side of her computer and reaches to open her desk dresser. "So, I was going through a few of my things and came across pictures from high school-"

" _Oh God._..." Toby groans with his face upturned in a regretful grimace as he watches Emily move around on the other side of their Skype call.

"Junior year. Homecoming."

"Please don't tell me you have the picture with you."

"I have the picture with me!" Emily laughs as she pulls back a photograph dating all the way from 2003. "Look at us! We were practically fetuses here!" She puts the picture closer to her built in computer camera as she grins happily from behind. If it wasn't the quality of the photo, the style of both of them definitely showed their age compared to the upgrades of 2011. With her hair black, long, and waved, Emily wore a simple blue dress that had bottom fringes stopping at her knees as Toby wore a plain dark suit with a gold tie.

"Oh goodness, the hair." He covers his eyes in embarrassment just Emily pulled back from the camera. "Why was that hair popular back then? The best choice I've ever made was to cut that shit off." Toby reaches up and rubs his shorter haircut between his fingers. Emily, still in joyous spirits, glances down at the picture in her hand with a smile, still examining it.

"What are you talking about? You looked cute!"

"No, _you_ looked cute. I looked abandoned."

Emily ponders for a second, bouncing her head from side to side before she put the picture back into the drawer. "...True."

Toby chokes out with a surprised laugh, not expecting that kind of response back to his self-deprecation. "Hey, you weren't supposed to agree with that!" They both begin laughing with each other before Emily let's out a long sigh, lifting up her beer bottle to her lips.

"I don't miss high school much but there are definitely memories I would love to relive." she expresses before she drinks.

"Who would have guessed this would be the turnout years later." Toby eases into his computer chair with his smile drifting into a small smirk. It's been eight years since junior year and so many things have happened from then to the current day. After high school, Emily and Toby made a pact that no matter what opportunities came their way, they would finish college first. Emily graduated from college and went into the military while Toby joined a different kind of forces by going into the police department. Toby's career path could be foreseen but Emily's? Not so much.

"Who would have?" Emily says with a chuckle in her voice. "I thought I would be on my way to the Olympics or something dealing with athleticism. Definitely not a ranger."

"If you think about it, you didn't land far from your ideal goal. Being a ranger _is_ pure athleticism and then some. You and I," Toby briefly takes sip of his drink. "We are the backbones of this country. Protecting our people every day and putting ourselves in the line of fire to uphold that protection. Not everyone can do what we do. Not everyone can do what _you_ do. Which leads me to say... I'm proud of you, Em. You're my hero."

Emily swivels in her chair as she blushes, smiling hard as she waves her hand at the camera. "Oh, stop it." she bashfully covers her face as Toby begins smiling all over again. This is a memory that was going to be permanently stamped in his brain when asked about his friendship with her.

"No, seriously! I look up to you. I'm grateful for you being in my life."

With her face still brightening up, Emily stares at her screen of her best friend with a loving smile. She really did love him even if they were hundreds of miles away.

"And I am grateful for you, Toby." she lifts up her bottle at camera level. "Cheers to us."

Toby moves up closer to his computer, placing his bottle up as well. "To us."

…..

"FYI, I'm not giving this shirt back to you. It's permanently mines now. You're just going to have to get another."

"I'm pretty sure I can't order another one but go ahead. It's my gift to you." Emily chuckles as she plops down onto her couch right besides Hanna. Flying in yesterday early in the morning, with the last minute notice and her inability to move around her work schedule, this will be the quickest "Hi and bye" Hanna and Emily have ever done with her flight leaving tomorrow. While they have their time together, Paige decided to give them space as she goes shopping to put together a little care page for Emily. All evening, before sundown, they've been sitting going over old memories and watching movies together as Hanna tries to avoid the talk of overseas. She knows once they start that discussion of the severity of her deployment, the tears will not stop flowing for anyone.

So as of right now: Bridesmaids

In Emily's old and faded, light blue college shirt that had her name branded in the back in gold, Hanna non-discreetly watches her set up the DVD player to start their movie.

They do this every time. Every time they get together it's always the same thing; talk about the present, a little of the future, go back to the past with the "remember when's", and then do something mundane like watch a movie or binge a show because it's simple and requires little to no energy. But this time is different. There is a possibility where this might be the last time she'll ever get to be with her best friend again and she didn't want this to be her lasting memory.

She didn't want simple.

She wanted to make a memory worth reliving.

"Okay, this is totally not a spoiler alert but whe-"

Suddenly, Hanna jumps up to her feet, cutting Emily off mid-sentence and runs out of her living room. Emily is instantly stuck between confused and frightened by Hanna's unexpected, quick movements. She watches her sprint out of sight before she hears a loud clash which prompts her on her feet and running after her.

"Hanna!"

Emily makes her way towards the hallway where she sees Hanna unlock the front door and run outside. Emily's confusion grows to full blown concern by the way she watched her friend run out of her house as if she saw a spider giving birth to one hundred spider eggs.

Or did she actually see a spider giving birth to one hundred spider eggs?

Without time to put on shoes, Emily pushes through the door and closes it behind her before she takes off in sprinting mode in order to catch up.

"Hanna, please! Wait up!"

Emily watches her shirt flag in the wind speed as Hanna runs in only her top with barely visible shorts underneath. This is the first time she's ever seen Hanna run this hard, this fast, for this long. Emily's pace kicks up another notch as she does long strides down the lone street of her neighborhood. The streetlights were now flickering on in the starburst collided sky of purple and orange as the sun starts to set for the Indian summer night.

Within 10-20 seconds, Emily is now side by side with Hanna, trying to make sense of all of this.

"Hanna, what are you doing?!"

"Not being simple anymore!" she shouts back with her eyes trained forward, and arms chopping the air beside her like a true runner. Emily shoots her a wild glance before her barefoot planted down on a sharp and hard pebble, causing her to stop running and hiss out in pain. Unfortunately for her, Hanna kept on, looking like she was heading towards the front of the neighborhood's gated entrance.

After inspecting her foot, Emily took a large inhale and began running again. Internally, she was thankful for all the vigorous fitness she's been put through because if this was done years earlier, she may not have been able to last this long. But how the hell is Hanna lasting this long? She watches Hanna not go to the gate but to the large house perched right by the entrance, also known as the clubhouse; built, paid for, and exclusively only for the residents of the neighborhood for their booking and entertainment needs. Attached to the house was a parking lot and a gate leading the backyard.

As Emily gets closer, Hanna does a small leap onto the medium sized black gate, struggling a bit to get to the top and swing her legs over to the other side. All residents have an electronic key to open gates and doors of the clubhouse but seeing that Hanna didn't have a key and now neither did Emily, she prepares herself to also do a gate-jump just to catch up with Hanna. She couldn't even come up with a reasoning behind Hanna's madness but the only thing plaguing her currently is hoping nobody would call the cops on them for their apparent appearance of trespassing.

Getting over faster than Hanna initially did, Emily drops to the cemented ground from her jump but before she could voice out anything, Hanna comes into sight, grabs a handful of Emily's tank, and runs backwards so that they both fall into the cold, blue waters of the clubhouse's pool. They sink down into the deep end before Emily's reflexes kick in and she swims her way to the top, gasping in her first deep breath of air.

" _Shit_!" Hanna shrieks when she comes up and realizes how cold the waters are. Visiting Emily's house once before, Emily showed her around and led her to the prized possession that her and every house owner had to pay yearly for. One thing Hanna never forgot was the backyard and how beautiful their pool specifically was. From kiddie to 8ft deep, she knew that one day she'd have to take a swim.

And today was that day.

"Was this your plan?!" Emily slicks her hair back as she bopped up and down, looking at Hanna trying to doggy paddle her way to the safety of shallower waters. "Run out of the house like a madman just to hop in the pool?!"

"Yep. And I think my plan worked perfectly." Hanna answers back nonchalantly as she gets to the border of the pool where the cemented ground was elevated so that she could stay afloat. Emily scoffs with a laugh mocking her before she dives back down and disappears in the water. All Hanna could see is a choppy version Emily swimming closer to her under the surface before she felt hands grab her bare thighs. Before she knew it, her body was lifted out of the water just for her to be thrown backwards over Emily's shoulders with a yell followed by a splash. It's been a first time in a long time that she's been at this pool and it looked like they could use a bit of wet fun.

...

The lights illuminating the pool surrounded by the darkness of the night sky made Emily look like a goddess swimming effortlessly underwater with her black and white tank top with red shorts. Hanna sat at the edge of the pool, kicking her feet in the water as she sat in her soaked clothing. Luckily with the night having no wind, she wasn't cold or shivering. However, while sitting there, she couldn't do anything but stare. A part of her kicked herself for not having her phone to take a picture of this occasion but sometimes – you'll have to live in the moment without anything to show for it later.

Allow your brain to take a mental picture.

Emily's body waves towards Hanna's feet where she emerged out of the water and crossed her arms on the ground.

"Why are you sitting when you can be swimming?"

"Because I'm not a fish like you." Hanna pokes, causing laughter out of Emily. "Besides, that's the deep end and if you didn't notice, I can't swim."

"Then float."

"There is no such thing as floating. I'll sink right to the bottom like an anchor."

"Well if you sink, I'll save you." Emily playfully tugs on a few of Hanna's toes to encourage her into the water. Already near the kiddie end, Hanna carefully slips back into the pool as Emily held her hand. They walk with their feet hitting the pool floor until it disappears under them. Before Hanna could get anxious, Emily leans her onto her back until she began floating. It took a couple of tries in anticipation of Hanna getting completely comfortable but when it came to that moment, Emily leans onto her back as well so they could both float together. Just gradually gliding across the waters.

They both stare up at the night sky where thousands of tiny stars hover above them to twinkle. They lay silently, Hanna still holding onto Emily's hand as they hear the sound of cars driving past the other streets nearby and the light bump of loud music playing from a house or car in the distance. In that silence, thoughts flood into Hanna's mind faster than she ever anticipated.

"I love you, Em." Hanna lets out softly as she keeps her eyes up at the sky. "As a friend, or sister, or lover, or as all three, I'm still not sure."

Emily happily giggles. "My sister lover friend. That actually has a nice ring to it."

"Don't leave me, Emily...I need you to come back home after everything, okay? Don't leave me with this memory."

Emily takes in Hanna words carefully. Not responding straightaway but actually sitting on what she just said. This is why Hanna ran. Why she said she didn't want to be "simple". She rather create a wild instance to talk about in the future. This was going to be their "remember when". A few long seconds pass in between them before Emily speaks.

"This won't be our last memory. I promise."

…..

The dreadful Friday comes much to Emily's dismay, however, most of her checklist was scratched off and completed. She spent personal time with Hanna (with a small goodbye via phone to Caleb), had a 4 hour Skype call with Toby, said her peace with local friends, and now there was only one thing left. Her parents. Everything needed for her deployment was checked, double checked, triple checked, secured, and set by the door so the only thing left for her was to relax until it's time to go. After Hanna flew back out to New York at 6am, her parents came right along a few hours later. From having family outings with Paige to reliving old times, they've done it all today.

Nostalgia seemed to be the reoccurring theme this week.

Now as the clock nears 4pm, Pam and Paige have taken responsibility of cooking dinner early so they are able to eat, spend an hour or so extra, then leave for a hotel so Emily is able to get her rest so when it's time, they all can head out towards the airport. Emily thought it was ridiculous that her parents would pay to sleep somewhere for the night when she has a house with two extra bedrooms but her father insisted. In her last hours, they should be spent with the loved one, he told her. She's made time for everyone else and now it's time to put her focus on the person who matters most.

With the mouthwatering scents from kitchen along with tunes from back in the day, Emily opens her sliding backdoor with two bottles in her grip and closes it behind her as she walks out on her wooded patio she had installed in the backyard. Wayne sits comfortably on a chair, going through his phone when Emily approaches him, places a drink on the table in-between him and her as she takes her seat.

Wayne glances up at her, watching her crack open her bottle before he closes his eyes with a small head shake and chuckle.

"No matter how old you get and how established you are...I never thought I would be having a drink with my daughter."

"I have acquired a taste." Emily smiles as she lightly shakes her Samuel Adams. All her father could do is nod his head as he puts away his phone and grabs his own drink to open. Being close to the fall season, the sun was beginning to set earlier with the weather being stable around the 80°'s still. That southern weather.

The music from inside is muffled but still could be heard from where they sat while they both take their first sip in silence. Millions of thoughts were clouding each other's minds, Emily was sure if it.

"You know...I've been running around doing this paper work, meeting with people, finalizing things...but now? Now it's starting to hit me. This isn't the run of the mill deployment that everyone goes through at least once. I'm going overseas as Special Operations, separate from everyone else. And...I'm pretty freaking scared about it."

Wayne settles back into his chair with a sigh, staring off into the blends of colors above him. Purple fading into pink, pink into orange as the clouds soak up all the colors and wisp around the fireball of a sun, lowering into a bed of fluff. Emily really picked the perfect locale for sunsets.

"The thing is if this was your run of the mill deployment, I'd still give you your well needed advice but I'd also tell you that about less than 5% of the military have actually seen real combat. The movies sell this false idea that if you are going overseas, you're going to be in an intense fight the moment you touch down but what they don't tell you that sometimes you won't even fire off your gun and spend most of your deployment in boredom, wishing someone would cause some trouble. But…..you had to go off and be that 5% who actually lives in combat, didn't you?"

They both share a small chuckle. Although it's a serious topic, at this point of time, Emily could use any kind of humor. Even if it's grim humor, she'll take what she can get.

"We might be in two different MOS', experience our deployments differently; me being the guy who comes up with commands, you being the guy who carries out those demands, one thing will always stay the same…..War." Wayne's voice suddenly fell a notch deeper than usual and it made Emily's ears perk up like a Doberman. She used to hear that voice when things got serious and he had to sit her down for something. So long the idea of a light conversation.

"The environment. The split decisions and actions we must complete. I might not be able to give you advice to do your job because it's well out of my reach, but if there is one thing I _can_ do? I can tell you how to prevent you from being your own worst enemy."

She knew this was coming but didn't know exactly how, however, she knows she needs to hear it. Who better than her own war veteran father? Wayne adjusts himself in his seat, sitting up and forward, placing his bottle on the table as he folded his hands and looked straight into Emily.

"You're going to see some things. Things you never thought in _hundreds_ of lifetimes you'll see. You're going to see death. _A lot of it._ Innocent locals executed with det-cords, kids-teens ripped to shreds by a chainsaw, a puddle of gore that used to be a person. And every time you come across that, a piece of you will die inside. Some handle it better than others. A few of those guys enjoy the rush a little too much…be careful of those. But overall, some will not. And on that track, you're going to lose people. People you work with, people you just met, best friends; whether by war or suicide, it's going to happen."

Emily eyes drift down to the drink in her hand. She just noticed how she was unconsciously making little rips on the bottle label. This is no news to her. This is what she's been training for. But hearing her father say it, knowing she's leaving in less than 12 hours, it makes everything that much real.

"How were you able to move past that?" she asks without looking up.

"You don't." Wayne twists his lips to the side. "You really don't. But two things allowed me to keep moving: Keeping one with God, just staying in prayers, and my family. You and your mother. I had to come back for you guys. Every time. I had to come back. And that's another thing….Paige..." Emily's eyes raises followed by her brows as she glanced at her father who appeared as if he didn't know how to put his words together properly.

"…It's going to be a little confusing and hard to understand but Paige will move on without you."

Emily's head lifted up in blatant bewilderment as she stopped all movement of her fingers. A little confusing and hard to understand was right because it sounded like her father just implied that Paige was going to leave her. But Wayne picked up on Emily's sense of urgent distress as soon as the words left his mouth and already started waving her down.

"I don't mean she's going to leave you, nonono." he says as if she read Emily's mind all too clearly. "I mean that she will have to keep on living. Those little jobs you did around the house? She's going to be doing them the whole time you're gone. Your mom has done it, _you_ have done it…it's that nobody can be stagnant as life passes just because you're on deployment."

Emily's soul eases back into her body after almost taking flight. The thought of Paige leaving her almost sent her into instant stomach ache and nausea. But she understands how Paige is going to be riding solo for a while. Luckily she's taught her how to tend and maintain a few things earlier this year so she won't be completely helpless.

"When you come home it can be a struggle to find where you fit anymore. It's kind of unsettling that everything has subtlety changed, sometimes." Wayne reaches for this beer just to lean back again. "You're out of date with the rest of the world. You just lost 6 months, a year, or more and new music is popular, people are quoting lines from movies you missed, new fashion is in. You feel a bit displaced from everything like you're the new guy coming into an established group. Even with close friends and family."

Emily starts lightly bouncing her right leg as she shakes her head. " _Paige_...That girl is heaven sent. Everything we have right now came from her sacrifices that I'm still amazed she did, to be honest. When we were in California, she had all kinds of things lined up. Offers of all kinds." Emily takes a sip of her beer. She hears the faint laughter of her mother from inside the house. It makes her chuckle internally how much fun it seems they're having.

It just filled out her future vision perfectly even more...

"When I got my orders to move out here, I told her that I don't want to be responsible for her missing out on opportunities. Told her we could do long distance and I'll visit on holidays and vacation time. Worst comes to bat...we could separate for a while. Because I didn't want her to come with me and resent me from taking her life away from her in later years because she's young, you know? We're both young." Emily briefly glances up at her father who was nodding his head in agreement before she looked back down at her hands. "So I put those options on the table and what did she do? Packed up her life and never left my side. Sometimes I wonder how she was able to do that."

"It takes a woman with a heart of gold and a will of iron to be with a military member. And the dedication required to be associated with one is damn near impossible to find." Wayne says simply.

"6 years..." Emily mumbled mostly to herself and for a moment, it was silent between them. There was something she's been meaning to ask her dad for a while now but never had the chance for a sit down via phone call or even FaceTime. But now…it seems like the perfect timing with the perfect person.

"How did you know that mom was the one? When was that moment that it clicked where you knew it?"

"When one of my friends asked if they could go after her if we were to break up. From that point I _knew_ we would never leave each other." His own quick answer makes him laugh as he puts the rim of bottle to his lips. "The nerve of him _. Ernie Michaels._ Who the hell wants a guy named Ernie anyways?" Wayne shakes his head with a light smile, causing Emily to smile back as he takes a long sip. With the old pictures from back in their time, Emily tries to imagine her parents as _that_ couple where people are calling dibs on each other. It's kind of cute.

"But no." He swallows down and crosses his legs, resting the gripped bottle on his lap. "That might not be the moment...although it was a nice motivation." he chuckles once more. "But really it just made sense. Being with her made sense. The idea of a family made sense. The idea of raising a family and still being together 20, 30 years later _made. sense._ When I sat back and thought of that stuff being young, it was like that's what is supposed to happen. And the thought of her not being there was something I never wanted to experience. I knew she was going to be my rock and ultimately, the mother of my child."

Wayne gives a warming smile to Emily. She returns it and glances down as she taps her foot on the ground, now bouncing her leg.

"Things make sense with Paige. Things...Ideas...the future make sense with her. And it makes sense that this should be the next step." Emily reaches down into her pants pocket and pulls out a small purple velvet box and slides it across the table. Wayne instantly gaps, putting his bottle down as Emily quickly looks towards the window and door to make sure nobody was lurking around.

"Emily..." Wayne admires the box before he pops it open to find the gorgeous diamond ring perched inside like the jewel it was.

"I think I'm ready for the next step."

"Oh, this rock says more than _you think_." Wayne jerks up his head to glance over at the windows before he leaned in and lowered his voice. "You're going to propose tonight?"

Emily shakes her head with a hand wave. "No. Not yet. I was going to do it for my birthday, believe it or not. Sounds weird but I had this whole speech planned out, talking about how the only thing I want for my birthday to spend the rest of my life with you blah, blah. But now, I'm going to do it when I come back." she looks at dad with a fringe of needed guidance in her eyes. "I just need to know this is the right move."

"Only you know if it's right or not, Emmy." Wayne explains as he still looks over the ring. This week was definitely a barrel of surprises and to hear that Emily wanted to tie the knot soon just made his heart flutter a little bit. " _You_ know in your heart what is what. And if Paige puts you in a cold-sweat just thinking about being without her, then you know. You have my blessing, honey."

Wayne closes the box and slides it back to Emily who then pockets it again.

"Look after her while I'm gone." her face turns down to a slight frown as she makes sure the box is secured. "Everything is new to her and she could really use some direction."

"Don't even worry a strand on your pretty little head. My future daughter-in-law is in good hands."

"Oh. And don't tell mom. I want it to be a surprise for her. Just because."

"Father-Daughter code." Wayne pouts with a certain head nod. "I got it.

...

After about 2 more hours of the family dinner, Pam and Wayne leave for their hotel to give Emily her needed rest until they see her a bit later to send her off. Showering before bed, Emily finishes blow-drying her hair and looks at herself in the mirror for one of the last times. She wondered how she'd look when she comes back. Would her face age and no longer look youthful? Would she look tired? Grow bags under her eyes? She thought about every aspect of her face and how it could be affected. Glancing over to her right where her phone laid, she picked it up and clicked open the camera app. She lifts up her hand and tries to utilize the best angle and lighting she had at the moment and snapshots a selfie. She previewed it for a moment, deeming it okay before she went back for another picture. This time it was a mirror shot. She wanted to also document her current overall look/build before going out there.

A few more minutes pass by before Emily is completely done with her mini self-photoshoot and leaves the bathroom. She swings over to her nightstand, making her phone's ringer was on just in case, plugs it into her charger, and throws herself into her bed where Paige laid on her side. She couldn't even say anything before Emily rolled over and grabbed her, snuggling her face into her neck like a puppy.

"You know, if you sleep now, you'll have seven hours before you have to wake up. I think you should take that deal."

Emily pokes her head up with twisted eyebrows and pursed lips. "I'm going to have more than enough sleep from the flight here to Atlanta, Atlanta to New York, New York to freaking New Delhi, India, then from India to Afghanistan." Emily looks at her with a slick smirk. " _More than enough sleep._ Right now, I want to spend all the time I can with you. The pulse of my heart. The wind beneath my wings." Emily coos with a bright smile as she reaches for Paige's hand and interlocks their fingers.

"So, what would you rather do until it's time to leave?" Paige holds back her smile that wants to come out as she got close and comfortable against Emily's warm body.

"Well, for starters, we could have this wild, orgasmic night of passion that'll last me about 6 months, seeing it will be the last time I'll have any intimate-like moments for the remainder of 2011 and well into 2012."

"Wild orgasmic, huh?"

" _Mhmmm_. I hope you haven't been slacking on your endurance runs."

"Why?"

A sly grin slides across Emily's face before she bit her bottom lip, shaking her head. "Because I highly doubt we're stopping at 2 rounds tonight. We're going above and beyond, baby." she raises up their locked hands and kiss the back of Paige's, holding their eye contact, "To the stars."

...

Living up to her wishes, Emily and Paige spend the remaining hours left having the most intense night of love making that they've ever had with each other. And Emily couldn't have asked for more. Round after round they persisted with time seemingly flying by, they both fell asleep in each other's arms until it was finally the moment to get up and face the countdown. Emily followed her routine she did every morning and put on her uniform however this time, it symbolized the next page in her book.

 _Operation Shadow Hunters._

...

"Alright, this is where you're going to be staying for your tour. I hope you didn't develop any boundary issues with your life as an only child because you have three other guys you're sharing a room with."

Standing next to some kind of advisor and five other new soldiers in front of an open door, Emily pokes her head through to see a shabby dark room resembling a college dorm but without the appeal and definitely without the space.

The set up was simple at best with two black bunk beds whose occupants seemed to have a system going with their personal items and cleanliness. Something Emily was internally grateful for. There was a small walkway towards one of the more further walls with a few boxes stacked on each other to create a stand for a mini TV and gaming console in front of a couple of chairs.

"Bathroom and shower is down the hall. Now, unfortunately for you, we couldn't erect a special bathroom for you with your red carpet appearance. Because of that, you're going to have to grin and bear it with the rest of us, Lieutenant."

Emily could hear the unnecessary snark in this man's voice and she instantly was put on guard because of it. "The only special thing about me is the regiment behind my name, _sir_. I came here to do a job just like everyone else and I expect nothing less."

"You're damn right." the advisor nods before handing Emily a sheet of paper with a bunch of words typed from front to back. "Briefing is in an hour sharp. Fix your shit and find yourself there." Without waiting, he turns and proceeds down the hall with the rest of his group following him. Emily rolls her eyes and drags herself into the room, straight to the beds. Every bunk was used but an open cot on the bottom. It had no sheets and had yellowish splotches varied in locations as if someone had a pissing problem and kept wetting the bed. And by the faint smell, someone probably did.

 _Thank God I brought a crapload of sheets,_ she thinks to herself as she relieves herself from all of her bags. Emily lays out her suitcase on the floor and unzips when she starts rummaging around through her stuff. Digging through a mountain of things, Emily's hands wrapped around a cold, long can and pulled it out from the bottom. Along with clothing and basic needed goods, Paige had packed a small amount of cleaning products that she was sure Emily was going to be appreciative towards once she got there.

 _Bissell: Pet Stain Remover._

"Didn't get why the hell I needed carpet cleaning things but now...looks like it'll come in handy."

Emily shook up the full, blue can, pressed down on the button, and coated her bed with the white foam as if she was doing graffiti; particularly focusing on those yellow stains. As long as she's staying here, she refuses to lay in an infested bed without her trying to do something about it. Attached to the lid was a scrubber, fortunately for her, and it was time for a little old fashioned elbow grease. She crouched down to the bed and got close to scrub when the smell got more potent and caught her nose. Emily snaps back with a sour face, taking a few seconds to recover.

"Oh, _hell_ no." she rolls up her uniform jacket sleeves and begins her attempt to clean the literal hell out of that mattress. "Not today...not on my watch..."

Emily dedicated a total of 10 minutes of pure strength cleaning by scrubbing every inch of the bed. Fortunately for her sake, the yellow spots faded to pastel as she tried but it seemed like whatever it was soaked pretty well. All she could do was mumble under her breath and place the can back in its place as she squats down to her suitcase. A few more seconds of additional digging and she took out a bundle of sheets, pillows, a cover, Glade carpet powder, and dryer sheets. Emily mentally reminds herself to send a huge virtual kiss to Paige when she can as she opens and lightly sprinkles the white powder on the mattress which immediately gives off the clean linen smell it advertised. She rips open a box of scented dryer sheets as well and lays them out on the bed in different locations before she finished off by putting on her sheets, pillows, and cover to make her bed. Hopefully that will mask the smell while she slept.

"Home, sweet freaking home...wow."

...

Just as suspected, Emily's first rodeo at this deployment was going to be a bit shaky at first. Going to all her briefings and getting a feel for her temporary new lifestyle, she also had to relive what it was like to be a standout from the crowd. Luckily, meeting the three men she was going to be staying with wasn't as bad as she thought. They were pretty laid back except for one of them that refused to talk. Just upon the first meeting of her roommates, two of the men welcomed her while the most acknowledgement she got from the third guy was a glance. As cold as it was, she didn't mind. This job isn't an easy one and as long as he stays out of her way, she'll stay out of his. As for everyone else, the most of the men meshed with Emily just fine. The commanding general on site is massively big on 'team chemistry' and he isn't on board with having anyone treating her differently.

" **Football, basketball, hockey, soccer…you need team chemistry in order to win games. When you're on the same page with your team, great things happen. Well, this is a sport too. And that chemistry here is** _ **fucking imperative**_ **. Because without it…you're going back home in a casket. Do you understand the words I just said?"**

However, that little time of meet and greets were over. The day Emily arrived, she went right into work mode. From learning about missions that need to be completed to being assigned her combat gear, Emily was physically ready for anything. As luck would have it, she wasn't thrown in enemy lines right away. There was still some prior things being handled by other specialties that they waited the green light from so until it was time, Emily was doing a lot of preparing.

Days upon days went by with her not even leaving the base and it enabled her to shake the jitters she had when she first arrived there. She was able to get a feel of how to adjust to the lifestyle and for the most part, it was definitely…..unique.

One thing she noticed that is that everyone kept referring someone to a name that she wasn't sure who it belonged to. At first, anyways.

 **Heading her way outside to find someone, Emily sees a taller, burly man approach another guy who was sitting down, cleaning his glasses.**

" **Gibson. How many is manning the POVs for district?"**

 **"** _ **Oooh**_ **. A good truck full of guys."**

" **Wyler and all of them?"**

" **Yep."**

 **The man nods his head and moves to start walking forward when he stops himself and looked back in the other fellow's direction. "Is Mulan on board?"**

" **Yeah, should be." the guy responds, squinting his eyes from the sun as he looks up.**

" **Hm. Alright." the man finally walks away just as Emily was following his path behind him. The soldier puts on his sunglasses and nods his head at her.**

" **Lieutenant."**

 **Emily simply nods back as she continues walking.** _ **Mulan? Someone seriously has that name?**_

… **.**

 **Eating her lunch, Emily sat at decent sized table with the guys from home and a couple of others who seemed like cool people. The vibe of the area was light and easy although the day was busy. Everyone created a small rumble of conversation when the doors of the chow hall opened and in walked Haynes.**

" **Aye! Mushu!" A few guys yelled out happily in unison, making Haynes shine a bright smile for laughter.**

" **Why I gotta be Mushu?" he extends his arms out, "Is it because I'm black, you racist motherfuckers?"**

" **It's because you're Mulan's bitch." one guy points out as he gets up from the table to throw away his trash. "Just following around like a wounded puppy."**

" **And it's because you're black." another guy says, making the whole table crack up with shameless snickers as they ate.**

 **Haynes waves them off as he stands in line to get a quick snag of one of those ice cream cups before they run out. "Fuck you. Mulan is cool, alright? I'll be Mushu. I'll wear that** _ **proudly.**_ **Bitch and all."**

 **Emily smiles confusedly as she takes a bite of her carrot. Again that name Mulan comes up. Now her curiosity is piqued because this person seemed to be popular. Even Haynes knows them. Who is Mulan? One of the commanding officers?**

…

 **Emily rubs her eyes as she heads her way towards one of the offices to report to when she approaches an open room. However, the nature of a conversation coming out of there makes her slow down and stop before she gets to the door.**

" **-you don't want to** _ **offend**_ **anyone."**

" **Who? Mulan?"**

" **Yeah, basically."**

 **Emily cocks her head in confusion. For nearly a week, she's been hearing the name Mulan in several distant conversations. Was Mulan someone's actual surname? Or maybe it was a name given to a guy for some reason since the military loves giving nicknames. Why does everyone know them but her?**

" **Nah man,** _ **naaaaah**_ **. Mulan is the dopest, most chillest person in this whole fucking base."**

 _ **Oh, there's Haynes' voice.**_

" **You would say that Mushu."**

" **No, but he's right. Mulan is way cooler than I expected." another voice pitches in with him. "Plus she's not of one of those crazy, feminist lesbians so there is no problems there."**

" **Yeah. She's one of those cool lesbians. You can't really offend her – I mean I never seen her offended by anything yet."**

 **If Emily wasn't holding her weapon, she would have dramatically gasped and put a hand on her chest in true Hollywood fashion.**

 _ **I'm Mulan? That's me?! My name?!**_

 **She stood there baffled for a second before it all made sense to her.** _ **Of course**_ **they would call her Mulan. Mulan was the only woman who was on front lines and battled in one of the most threatening wars in her time. Through training, she quickly showed her ability to be an impressive soldier and brought honor to her family. Not to mention she's more on ethnic side although she's Filipino and not Chinese. But to these people, they're all the same.**

 **As for Haynes, it's pretty humorous that he got the name Mushu. He can't help it. They've been friends since the moment she's joined the Rangers and they enjoy each other's company. It makes sense that he would be closest to Emily in this new, hostile environment.**

 **But Mulan… Emily pouted her lips with a fascinated head nod. A part of her wanted to dust off her shoulder.**

 **Mulan is a badass.** _ **She**_ **is a badass.**

….

The first day finally came of Emily being sent outside the guarded gates and it was a part of a scouting squad. Not to be confused with the basic patrol ride but to seek out a tip left about the whereabouts of enemy materials. They was told it was going to be a long ride so she and the four other guys came prepared. Two sat in the front, she and another in the back, and one standing in the middle of the truck, operating the overhead gun. Being her first ride out, all she could think about them avoiding IEDs, or roadside explosives, at all costs. She's heard all kinds of horror stories and she didn't want to be one of them. Luckily with this bunch, they made sure to keep things light and fun.

 _5 Hours in…_

"Alright, alright, alright. I got one-I got a _hard_ one." a young, latino soldier grins a devilish beam from ear to ear like the Joker as he scans his eyes around the Humvee. "Fuck, marry, kill…..Rachel, Monica, and Phoebe from Friends."

The truck groans in frustration as the young soldier starts laughing. They've been playing all kinds of games during their run and it's just been a barrel of jokes. Emily really liked being around this crew and was glad she didn't get stuck with hardasses that she's had the displeasure of meeting.

"Here it is: Fuck Phoebe, Marry Rachel, and sentence Monica to death." the truck driver answers through his gruff voice first and proudly at that. Instantly, his response was met with a lot of "What?!" yelled back at him.

"Are you kidding?! You marry Monica! She's a chef! Do you even eat, bro?" a distinct Chicago accent makes their appearance as the gunner yells down into truck while he scans the empty dirt roads with his MK19 in his grip. Through his headset, he was able to hear the conversation inside perfectly. "Marrying Monica is the only correct answer. She's the most adult of the three and actually seems capable of living in the real world. She'd be a nag, but you'd never have to worry about food or a dirty house. So it's marry Monica, fuck Rachel, and kill Phoebe."

" _No, no, no_ – you fuck Monica." the soldier who originally came up with the question, shakes his head disapprovingly. "While it's debatable as to who was hotter in their prime, Rachel has held up better so she's the better candidate for marriage. Then kill Phoebe's ass because she annoys the hell out of me."

"Wait, hold on! Why does everyone want to kill Phoebe?!" the blond soldier operating the service radio and satellites in the passenger seat whips his head at the older driver who looked to be in his mid to late thirties.

"Exactly! You obviously fuck Phoebe, it's clear as day that she's a freak in the sheets." the driver defends back.

"I would fuck Monica and marry Phoebe. Rachel would have to die so I could have her 45% Ralph Lauren discount." the passenger laughs, making the others chuckle at the idiocy. "Phoebe is fun, easy-going and just the right amount of crazy. You gotta marry her because she'll keep you on your toes."

"Alright!" the latino waves everyone to tally up the responses. "So Burkett says fuck Phoebe, marry Rachel, and kill Monica."

"The only right answer here." the driver says, conceitedly.

"Losey is fuck Monica, marry Phoebe, and kill Rachel."

"Yep." the radio passenger nods.

"Wyler is fuck Rachel, marry Monica, and kill Phoebe." he points to the solider standing in the middle. "And I say fuck Monica, marry Rachel, and kill Phoebe."

"What say you, Fields?" Burkett calls out to Emily who has been sitting there laughing along but has yet to add her input among the chatter.

" _Uhmm_ …" Emily scrunches up her face in thought with the only noise being made is the hum of the Humvee as everyone waits. "Well…I'd say fuck Monica."

Losey and Romero, the latin solider, shout out in victory with Emily so far agreeing what they've been saying.

"I dunno – I couldn't marry her because she is to neurotic and controlling for me. I would marry Rachel though and then just…kill off Phoebe."

Romeo laughs with his tongue out as he leans over and gives a hard high five to Emily while the others just shake their heads. "You heard that? The queen has spoken. Fuck Monica, marry Rachel, and kill Phoebe. That's how it's _supposed_ to be."

"Well, my bladder has spoken as well." Wyler jiggles out one of his legs after standing for five hours. "I gotta piss."

Burkett, however, shakes his head, glancing in one of his rear view mirrors as he thought he saw something on the ground. Turned out to be an old grey hat. "Nope. Not stopping."

"Why not?" Emily and Romero both ask at the same time like two restless kids on a road trip. Losey in the front starts to silently chuckle to himself because he and everyone knows what's the alternative to not stopping is.

"We stop, we lose time. And being on time is late so no stops. You better piss in that bottle if you have to go that bad."

"Alright," Wyler groans from above and a few moments later he bends his knees slightly as his body faces both Emily and Romero. "Somebody unzip me."

Emily diverts her eyes outside the Humvee, watching nothing but dirt pass them as she doesn't move a muscle. The truck once again gets silent as Wyler stands there waiting to be helped. Finally, Emily slowly moves her eyes towards Romero, who was already staring at her.

" _FUCK_ no. That's the biggest fuck no I've ever said in my life."

"Why I gotta do it?!" he whines at Emily's strong notion of not volunteering with the ugly job that one of them has to do. "You don't even like penises so it's easier for you!"

Emily's eyes widen before she turns in her seat to fully face her crewmember. "I'm am NOT-

"Unless you want me to turn into R. Kelly in this bitch and start spraying," Wyler cuts in before the bickering goes any further. "Someone needs to man or _woman_ _up_ and do the duties you are meant to do to protect your country….and taking out my dick is one of them." he wiggles his knees impatiently, "C'mon! I have to go!"

"Rock, paper, scissors."

"NO."

Romero side-eyes Emily for a long moment before he reaches down for the 2/3rds filled Gatorade bottle that already has been used to relieve because of the no stopping rule. He uncaps it and gives Emily one more look before he reaches for the front of Wyler's uniform.

"Don't be scared, Romero. I ain't gonna face-fuck you…..Not until after our second date."

Burkett couldn't help himself and bursts out in loud laughter as Emily and Losey start giggling at Romero's unfortunate expense.

….

 _7 Hours in…._

After riding through dirt back roads for most of their journey, the truck finally starts to approach some civilization. They were going at a much slower speed than before now that there were locals around. Emily looks through her side window and sees just a handful of people walking past, some standing around as they stared at the vehicle.

Prior to leaving, they've all been told about a previous unit having an accident and how a couple kids got run over and hurt basically trying to catch snacks being thrown to them since it was something the soldiers did often. So their new standard of procedure was to not give out anything whatsoever in order to keep the kids from grouping around the vehicles as they'd roll through their towns.

As Emily is skimming the road and the people surrounding, she spots this adorable little Afghan girl nearly hiding behind a man's long shirt as she stared at them with her big green eyes. Emily guessed her to be around four or five. She knew they weren't supposed to give them anything but she couldn't still her beating heart. She reaches down beside her into her bag and pulled out a sealed, fat chocolate chip muffin. She knew she wasn't going to miss it because of her lack of a mood for it so she nudged Wyler's leg, telling him to toss it to her. She thought she was going to get pushback from the men, she actually expected it, but no one said anything and Wyler obliged.

Throwing it with sniper precision, the muffin landed right into the hands of the man. Wyler motioned it to the little girl where then the man then crouched down and gave it to her. The girl brightened at least 3 shades and ran off while the man smiled and gave them an appreciated head bow. Emily waved back from the window as if he could see her and darted her eyes back to the girl who ran up to a group of kids, showing off her new treat. In the midst of show and tell, an older boy around 11 or 12 walked up to her and did a violent two-handed shove to blow the girl half his size onto her back on the hard ground, taking the muffin from her.

Romero jerked forward as if he was about to fight someone as the whole Humvee watched the little girl burst into loud wailing as she sat there on dirt muffin-less while the man with her ran to her aide.

"That fucking terrorist little shit." Losey gritted his teeth in aggravation.

As they started getting closer to the spot the boy moved to, he shamelessly turned to them, tearing into the food with his mouth full and started waving for them to throw him something else.

Wyler also obliged.

He reached his hand down and grabbed the half full Gatorade bottle from Romero and threw it at the kid to help wash down the stolen muffin. A few of the other kids tried to take the bottle from him but he ran off and spun off the cap as greedily as he was.

Everyone in the truck eagerly watched the boy tilt his head back and take a gulp of the piss before he started choking and dropped both the muffin and bottle onto the ground. One local in his late teens to early 20's started clapping and laughing tauntingly at the small bully as the entire truck inside started exclaiming in celebration, two of them flipping the kid off from the window. Emily merely chuckled to herself watching it all go down.

 _Good for him._

…

 _7.5 Hours in. Sweeping._

The time had come for the part of the duty where Emily and Romero had to exit the Humvee and stroll a more desolate area with other units. For it being mid-day, there didn't seem to be a lot of people in this small area which was expected of them. A few days ago, one of the units got a tip from a local about whereabouts of materials the Taliban are planning to use for another ambush. This was equivalent to a police station getting an anonymous message as a lead in their current crime case. The location however was in a dangerous area so, taking all precautions, they made sure they had extra backup, just in case it was a fluke. Sometimes the civilians do want to help the military drive out the bad guys as much as they do.

Emily and eight other men walk this ghost down cautiously as one of them lead with coordinates. While in the Humvee, Emily was able to block out the mission with some friendly conversation but now, everything is real.

She's in enemy territory.

Scaling through the back of the small housing area where the grass and trees were, Emily follows the guys in front of her, keeping her assault rifle up and ready for anything until she and two another guys were told to clear ground of the close by building just to make sure they are truly alone. Romero nudged Emily before he left to jog off with others while she and the two soldiers she never met followed orders.

It was a nice sunny day with a breeze that she enjoyed. Although very quiet, the scenery of the abandon town wasn't so bad nor destroyed as she thought it would be. Glancing around every two seconds while she stood in the middle, they come to the entrance of a structure.

"Let's watch each other's back, baby. Watch each other's back." the guy in front of the small line calls over his shoulder.

"I got you." she tells him as Emily guards him from behind.

"And I got you. We're ready." says the last solider at the end, protecting Emily.

The three carefully enter, clearing out every hall and every room to make sure nobody was hiding out. One building became two, then two tuned three. So far, it appeared to be safe. No sign of anyone as they now walked the road paths.

Suddenly, over radio, one of the guy got word to meet them at a specific area within walking distance. He turns around to inform–

The air splits right by the second guy's ear just as a bullet just barely misses him.

"FUCK!" he yells out as all three of them now run to take cover in separate areas. Emily's heart starts racing and breathing gets heavier as she hides behind an abandoned van. She didn't have time to process what just happened when round after round starts being fired from a direction she couldn't necessarily pinpoint where.

"WHERE IS IT COMING FROM?!" the first guy yells out over his random gunfire behind a wall.

"I DON'T KNOW!" the second guy responds as he is behind a car as well. With the shots being fired, the echo made it extremely difficult to identify. Emily pops her head up just enough to get a view through the outside of a dirty passenger window.

"WE'RE CAUGHT IN FIRE! RIGHT ACROSS FROM BUILDING #4 WITH THE FLAG! WE NEED REINOFRMENTS!"

Emily scans her eyes at a rapid speed through every square foot until she finally locks with a person perched on an open window in a distant building. She was too far to see the detail of the guy's face but she saw what seemed to be him reloading.

She had an instant thought to slide up to the hood of the van and take a shot but comparing locations, it would make her visible compared to her hidden spot. Changing ideas, Emily frantically scrambled down a feet to find a rock of a thick size. Finding one as big as her palm, she took a deep breath and thrusted her right elbow into the passenger window to break it. She moved her arm from side to side to clear a way then hurled the rock with force through the driver's side window to open a space.

Emily picks up her weapon and leans into the window with her gun pressed into her shoulder as she lines up her aim at the head. Her heartbeat was now throbbing inside her ears.

 _Deep breath in…._

 _Deep breathe out…_

 _Steady…._

Emily pulls back the trigger and shoots out a string of five back to back rounds. The shooter gets struck several times and goes limp over his gun, pushing it out the window straight onto the outside ground beneath him as he laid over the banister. The area goes silent with a few birds chirping overhead.

"SHOOTER IS DOWN! I REPEAT: SHOOTER IS DOWN!"

Emily holds her position, blinking a number of times as she lets out a shaky breath. She waits a few seconds before her mind snaps back in place and she pulls out of the window, moving to the front of the van.

"Lieutenant Fields, was that you?!" Emily hears a voice call out but doesn't know who it belonged to. She swallows down hard. For some reason her throat got awfully dry.

"Yeah..." her answer comes out as a croak before she coughed and replied again much stronger. "Yeah! I think I got him!"

Emily keeps her weapon up as she starts walking back out into view where the other guys came out of their hiding spots as well. They hear some kind of yell farther out and turned to see their reinforcements running to assess the scene. All three instantly started walking towards the other soldiers making their way back, armed and ready, when they were reaching the building the shooter was aiming from.

" _Jesus fuck_ …" one of the reinforcement react to the head and an arm dressed out the window. It was a clear headshot from where they could see. Emily and her guys ultimately get to the site when she glances up and sucks in a vast amount of air in a disturbed gasp.

"That was kid?!" one of the soldiers comment aloud in just as much astonishment, staggering back. "Holy fucking shit…"

Blood collecting from the open wound pools on the window banister and drips off the building as the puddle keeps growing in size. With such a small head, it only took one high speed bullet to cause a rupture let alone the several hits he took. Emily steps back, nearly tripping because of the sudden heaviness of the equipment on her body.

"Woah, woah. You good, Fields?" a hand catches Emily's back as she can't take her eyes off the dead body. She wanted to but she couldn't. She couldn't physically change sights.

Her first ever kill was a child.

…..

Showered and cleaned up to turn it in for the night, Emily's room was empty with everyone mingling during the last hour and a half before lights out.

Emily stands in front of her bunk, arms crossed, staring at the egg white wall it's pushed against in pure silence. She chews aimlessly on her bottom lip. Motionless. A few seconds pass by and she slowly bows down onto her knees and places her folded hands on the mattress. Her dog tags hang from her neck, moving with her chest with every breath she took.

She stands back up, shaking her head in uncertainty. Her eyes move from the wall to the navy blue sheets covering her bed.

She doesn't blink.

She bends down onto her knees again. Folded hands on top of her mattress.

She exhales a sigh.

Stands back up.

 _Knock, knock._

Emily's head snaps to the door which Haynes slowly opens, poking his head inside with his eyes tightly shut.

"Warning. Warning. Black male coming in. Black male coming in. Is he safe to enter?"

"…Uh…yeah. Yeah come…" Emily's voice weakly trails off as she awkwardly moves her hands to the top of her wild bun then sliding it to the back. Haynes opens his eyes and sees Emily's nervy appearance as her body kept swaying around and her eyes stuck to the titled floor. He steps in wearing basic attire of a grey tank and blue sweats rolled up his calves, closing the door behind him. He takes a few steps until he's standing beside her, looking at her withdrawn face.

"How you holding up, Em?" he ask with a small voice. He's heard about her adventure outside and made it a task of his to check up on her after she showers before bed. Everyone was pretty stoked about the news of her first bad guy takedown but the excitement left when more details came out.

Emily points to her bed without having even looked in Haynes' way since he entered the room. "I've been trying to…..get down….and….." her hand reaches up and cover her mouth with a few fingers as she tries to find the words to talk. Ever since her shot, she's been feeling a sense of numbness. This was the first time she actually spoke more than five words and it was getting difficult to articulate herself.

She clears her throat.

"I've been trying to get down and have a moment to myself but….I'm…I'm having trouble."

Haynes points to the bed. "You're trying to sleep?"

"No, just…just trying to–"

"Pray?"

"Yeah." Emily nods her head. Haynes notices how she had just blinked for the first time since he's been looking at her. "You know, Paige, I….I tried to call her earlier but the line wasn't working and I had to hang up. I called again but it wouldn't- It wouldn't go through."

"Damn. I'm sorry…"

"So now I'm just trying to get down and….do this but I-I don't know how to. How to start it."

Haynes twists his lips and walks past her, moving from her right to her left side, and gets down on his knees by her bed. He folds his hands on top of her navy blue sheets and looks up at her.

He motions with his head for her to join him.

She sluggishly bends down to her knees besides him and mirrors his motion. Folded hands on top of the navy blue sheets.

"It's just like talking to your dad or your friends." Hayne's softly tells her. "That's how I do it anyway. You don't need an opening statement, a thesis, three bodies of supporting ideas, then a conclusion to summarize everything up. It's just you talking. Saying whatever is on your mind. If you need to tell him about your day, by all means do it. He loves you and is there to listen whenever you need an ear."

"But I killed a _kid_ , Dominic." Emily tightens her brows and hisses out in a harsh whisper before she turns to look at him. His shoulder slumped subtly as his heart instantly tore from the seams seeing Emily's state. He's never seen her so broken down before. It was almost surreal. "I can't hide from that. I knew I would have to get blood on my hands the moment I signed up for this but that was a child. I can't just casually bring it up like it's nothing."

" _Emily_. He's not a stranger you have to explain yourself to." he reaches for her and place his index finger on her black shirt, to the right of her chest while he kept direct eye. "He's _right._ _here_. He knows your heart. He knows your intentions and he knows you are just doing what you have to do to protect people. He also knows this is bothering you and he's there waiting for you to come to him. Sure, God isn't a fan of brutality but he's forgiving. That's the best part apart about him. He's merciful and he forgives because he loves us that much…..Try it."

Emily turns her head to face forward and breathes out. " _Okay_..." she closes her eyes.

"You ready?"

"Yeah….I'm ready."

Haynes observes over Emily's face one last time before he bows his head and closes his eyes, getting ready to lead them both into prayer.

…

3 Months Later….

Sent on another mission, coincidentally, Emily was able to be working with the same guys she had on her first mission. Although it was months ago and they've only worked twice more after that, it was good to be around people she genuinely liked. They made her laugh and has made work more bearable. The side effects of her first kill took it's time to pass, with a few nightmares she would have here and there, but when it came back to work, her head was still in the game.

 _It wasn't some innocent child,_ Emily would tell herself. _It was a kid soldier and his sole intent was to kill me and my guys. He would not be grieving over my death so I shouldn't be grieving over his._

Today's job is set up to be a lot more hands on, which is something she's been getting into lately. Sensitive site exploitation. Their job is to collect information based on location for them to later analyze to conduct rapid follow-on operations. This time, there were two trucks on the move and they were tagging behind one also filled with soldiers.

As they prepare and make way to their destination, Emily's Humvee does what they do best.

Talk.

"Let me tell you. Freddie? He brought a 2 terabyte sized thumb drive with him here." Losey, the blond radio operator in his late twenties starts informing the rest of the truck of new information they might like as he chews on some sunflower seeds. "Filled with nothing but porn, movies, shows, comics, _all of it._ "

The truck murmurs with surprise and big eyes as Romero speaks up for clarification.

"Comic books? How he got comic books? What kinds?"

"He downloaded them like a PDF. Got all kind of graphic novels. Even the newer Walking Dead issues."

Emily's interest was piqued immediately upon this discovery as well. She's seen the same movies on her drive too many times. "What shows does he have? Does he have Parks & Rec? I missed the last season."

"Yeah, I think he got that too. Pretty sure I saw that on there."

"Okay, who gives a flying fuck about shows and comics?" Wyler rolls his eyes, "What kind of porn does he got? That's the real question here." Everyone laughs at Wyler's frank questioning, even Emily. She's gotten used to his way of operating. He's like the comic relief with no filter to her.

"All kinds, man! All kinds. Whatever you into. He basically got all of Pornhub on that thing. HD videos, may I add. None of that blurry, 320p shit." Losey spits the shells of the sunflower seeds into his empty water bottle and starts shaking the bag to stuff another handful in his mouth.

"Like, he has that 2 terabyte, right? Then he brought like a bunch of smaller sized thumb drives. What he does is he sells them to you; whoever wants to buy. He sells it for shit like MREs, game tokens, stuff like that. Once you buy them, you check out his library, pick out what you want, then he copies it onto your drive. Just like that. And it's smart because you know the shoppette never has shit in there so people just buy from him."

"What if you have your own hard drive?" Burkett asks, glancing at Losey for a moment before he puts his eyes on the road. "He still does that?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just give him something in exchange and you're good. He gave Erikson access just by him giving him one of his Ray Bans."

"Wow, that's nice….He's nice." Emily raises her brows and looks towards Romero who shares her same sentiment. Already in her mind she was thinking of things that could be used as bargaining. She untwists her blue Powerade bottle and moves her helmet a bit to gain access to her mouth. There's a lot of things she would like to get her hands on in that library of this 'Freddie'.

Losey spits a few shells into his bottle. "He is, man. I mean you could kiss him, he's so nice."

"Shit, where is his room located because I might have to check it out because his credentials sounds pretty nice, right about now." Wyler does a small jig with his hips as he sticks his tongue out. Although nobody can see his face, Romero starts laughing too and starts patting his leg.

"Somebody is about to be saying hello to Mia Malkova toni–"

A forceful blast knocks the sentence right out of his mouth as an explosion the truck flips onto its side, smashing Emily's bottle into her face and crushing her against the door. Everything goes completely black as her hearing seemed to have vanished and was replaced by a high pitched ringing. Smoke and dirt gets everywhere inside the Humvee. Emily inhales all the smog but the dirt mixed with her drink created thick soot all over her face and down her throat. She violently begins hacking but wasn't able to hear herself. She felt her body cough but couldn't hear it.

Emily tries to move but finds herself pinned inside her seatbelt by some kind of equipment that fell on her. In her attempts to move and free herself, she was greeted by a sharp pain in her side that made her collapse back into her seat. She opens her mouth and feels her throat muscles vibrate so she knows she's yelling out for anyone who can hear her.

"I'm stuck! I can't move! I can't move!"

She lets out a harsh round of coughing before she starts her attempt of yelling again.

"I can't hear anything! Lieutenant Fields down! Lieutenant Fields down!"

 **A bit long, I know. But I promise everything will make sense.**

 **There has been quite a handful of things that has occurred in the past 3 months. But as of now?**

 _ **Shit has hit the fan.**_

 **Please, leave your thoughts in reviews and tell me what's on your mind. What do you think so far? Do not hesitate to just ramble. Absolutely no review is too long for me. Your words are food to my stomach.**

 **Curious about anything else Sinner's Lullaby? On my page there is a link to a google drive folder. Inside it has a few promo edits I've put together for your visual needs. Check it out and tell me what you think of it, if you can. I put the best things together for you guys!**

 **Until the last installment of the prologue…**


	3. Prologue II - Afghanistan, 2011

**Character Visuals for Your Fav OCs:**

 **Staff Sergent Haynes: Brian White**

 **Major Burkett: Jeffrey Dean Morgan**

 **Staff Sergent** **Losey: Jai Courtney**

 **Staff Sergent** **Wyler: Jake Gyllenhaal**

 **Sergent Romero: Cauã Reymond**

 **(Entering) Majid: Alexander Farsi**

 **This story has no hidden political agenda of any sort. It's just an introduction to a fic that will soon turn very filthy. And frankly, that's all I care about.**

Prologue II – Afghanistan, 2011

 _Italics means thoughts, emphasized word or action._ **Bolded is a flashback** (….) is an indication that time has passed.

Emily grits her teeth and tries once more to move out of her seat when she lets out a long growl, resting right back into her position. Something was stabbing her on her side. She yells out again but silence surrounded her. At that moment, absolute panic seeps in. She's deaf. This accident they found themselves in shattered her hearing. If Emily's heart wasn't already clawing their way out of her chest, it certainly was now.

"I cannot hear! Somebody _please_ tap me if you're still alive!"

A few aching seconds later, Emily feels a hard jab against her thigh. The momentarily relief she felt was astounding because for a glint of a second, she thought she was the only survivor on board. Romero groggily reaches for his seatbelt, coughing and waving the dust out of his face. The release out of his seat, however, was the only thing keeping him together as he slips out and lands on top of Emily. Emily yelps out in pain as the stabbing in her side worsens with the extra body weight. Quickly, Romero tries his best to roll off Emily and land onto the floor of the Humvee due to the truck rolling on its side. He pulls his upper body up to a struggled crawl as he works himself into Emily's line of sight.

Squinting through the dust, Emily sees her crewmember and couldn't be anymore happier to see his square face. He mouths out something to her, using all his strength to gesture with hand movements.

"Shaking...? Arms…? Guns?" Emily guesses out his message through this urgent game of charades. Romero switches from trying to act out the situation to another way of alerting her. Emily's eyes dart to his gloved hands as he starts spelling out in sign language.

 _A...m...b...u...s...h..._

"We're being ambushed?!"

Romero vigorously nods his head. He stretches out to her and takes several long, deep breaths before he mustered up all his energy to push off a piece of hardware equipment that fell onto her. It crashes to the floor of the truck as Emily sucks in a great deal of air. She didn't realize how much she was limited breathing until she was freed. Just then, her ears popped and all the sounds she was absent from came rushing in at an intense volume as if someone turned on a TV at 100% volume in a quiet room. The bursts of the rapid shooting taking place right outside the truck startled her. Not knowing who was shooting or where they're located, the whole crew was placed in the middle of a firefight with an extreme disadvantage, right off the bat.

"4-2! 4-2! OUR POSITION HAS BEEN INFILTRATED! MK19 IS DOWN! WE ARE SURROUNDED! I REPEAT: WE! ARE! SURROUNDED!" Losey screams into the radio with his head ducked from the windshield window. While they were driving, an IED detonated two seconds too early before them. If Burkett drove a hair bit faster or the bomb would have waited a few seconds more, the entire Humvee and everyone inside would have been obliterated. The blast, still, sent shock waves through the truck and caused a massive accident as the ground lifted beneath them.

"RPG-RPG-RPG!" the absolute panic in Wyler's shriek warns everyone as he dropped his body from outside and crouched down by Emily, holding his head.

"RPG!" Losey mimics into the radio while the others shield themselves. Emily ducks into a fetal position as she thinks her last thoughts. She knew she was going to be vaporized within the next second and all that flashed in her mind was Paige. Like a flip book, all the memories of her and Paige rushed in an animated fashion from their first date to their last night together. She told her she was going to come back. She promised her. She can't die.

She can't die like this.

The sharp, piercing sound of a canon-like ejection jets through the air.

 _ShitshitshitshitSHIT!_

The ground rumbles under them, blasting Emily's ear again when a roar of an explosion ignites a few yards from them and hurls all the hard cemented ground into the already broken windshield. Her skin instantly goes cold as more dirt collects inside the truck.

The truck stays silent for a total of ten, long seconds.

She can feel the dirt on her face...

Her ears are ringing but she can hear the crisps of a fire…

She's not dead.

She slowly opens her eyes, keeping them tight, and sees Wyler shifting from his crouched position.

He's not dead. They're still alive.

She begins her rounds of coughing once more and gradually rises her head up from her knees. Her body trembled immensely almost as if she had an outer body experience.

"Romero, Wyler, Fields, you guys okay?" Burkett calls roll as he extends an arm to shake Losey. "You okay over there?"

Losey groans in response, shaking his head as Wyler and Emily sound off their presence.

Romero gathers his bearings as he feels a bit unsteady. He swallows down hard before he finally speaks up. "I'm go-" His passenger side door swings opens, shedding in a burst of sunlight inside the dark and dusty Humvee. An unidentified man leans in, grabs a hold of Romero's armored vest, and yanks with such an unanticipated force that he was too caught off guard to react.

Before Emily could think to secure her weapon, shouts from the outside overpowers in numbers as they watch Romero get pulled out of the truck and into the bubble of bright light. Burkett's door opens and before they knew it, they're being screamed at in a foreign language with guns drawn and surrounded. One by one, each member was forcibly removed from the wreck until Emily was left in the furthermost part of the truck.

Loud, threatening yells frightens her as a man reaches all the way in and swings a grab. The anger behind his covered face from Emily not complying immediately grew with every attempt he made. With her back against the interior, she takes notice of her weapon beside her. If she was quick enough, maybe, just maybe, she would be able to outdraw him and shoot right there. Yet, the chances of her body being riddled with bullets was a far more guaranteed death than her option to obey. She surrenders her hands and cautiously inches towards the man when he snatches her by her arm, dragging her out. In no regard, she is pulled right into the dirt ground where she sees a defeated Burkett, Losey, Romeo, and Wyler on their knees with their hands up, surrounded by men who looked nothing like the US military. Behind them her eyes land on a mountain of fire and black thick smoke ruminating from it. It clicked.

The Humvee in front of them was the target for the earlier rocket launcher.

Emily's head jerks forward from a firm push against her helmet. The man began barking, walking around to the front of her as he aimed his brown AK47 at her forehead. She had not the slightest idea of what he was saying but after catching Losey's eyes, he silently glanced up several times. Everyone was stripped of their helmets along with their radios and guns tossed to the side. The man's voice got more impatient by the time Emily finally got the clue to start unarming herself.

Another man called out something, signaling an additional person to approach them. Extra voices are heard from a distance which made the group encircling them move their attention temporarily. The four soldiers had their backs against the rebels while Emily faced them. Burkett took this opportunity and used it to get her attention. It takes a few tries of scrunching his face in hopes of Emily seeing but when she did, he gave his first order.

She intently stares at him without being too obvious and computes the letters he was communicating through his eyes.

 _Stay calm._

In a simultaneous speed, a pair of clammy hands grip Emily's wrists and force them behind her back while a burlap bag that smelled like potatoes was thrown over her head. Her hands were tied with a tight zip-tie as she was forced to stand. She was directed from behind, shoved every time she stumbled over her feet until she bumps into a hard barricade. She stopped in her tracks briefly when her back was thrusted against hard, making her body fall onto some kind metal. The voices yelled at her and she quickly realized that they were most likely being loaded into the back of a truck. She lifts up her feet and hops in, not knowing exactly what to do from there until her arm was grabbed again and was forced to sit down. She hears the scuffle of feet beside her and feels weight being added as the rest of her crew members were placed around her.

At that moment, Emily mentally kicks herself, wishing she took the shot when she had the chance. Death would be much easier than becoming an American soldier being held hostage by the Taliban.

...

 **"Do your thing and come back...you and I have a Tekken rematch that I refuse to lose again to."**

 **Emily laughs as she tilts her head to the side with a shrug. "I really don't know what I'm doing. I'm just clicking buttons."**

 **"Lies every girl says!" Haynes throws his hand in the air and takes a small spin as they stand outside the Humvee Emily has to board for her mission today. "Like when they tell you** ** _"I've never done this before"_** **in that cute and innocent voice and then proceed to go all** **Emily Rose** **and suck the Holy Ghost out of you. I don't want to hear it!" Emily rolls her eyes purposely leaving them at the top to exaggerate the sass. Haynes mocks her gesture with a lip smack and eye roll of his own before he pulls her in for a hug.**

 **"Just hurry up. And don't flake on me."**

 **"Alright, alright,** ** _alriiight_** **…" Emily whines as they separate. Their hands automatically find each other for their swift and personal handshake that they've created recently. He pats Emily on the back one last time before she hops herself into the truck. Durkett starts the engine and waits for clearance to drive out of the base's gate as Emily rolls down her window, flashing out a brief peace sign before they roll out to do the duty of the day.**

 **"My little baby, off to destroy people..." Hayne admires on, holding onto his dog tags with a quivering lip.**

 **"Dude!" A soldier laughs, pushing Haynes to the side.**

 **"I've dedicated my time to watch that shit just to quote lines at her all day. Let's see how long it'll take before she notices."**

The truck comes to a hard halt, making Emily lurch forward from the lack of resistance to hold her back. She didn't even notice that she had nodded off. It's a possibility that her body's reaction to the overload of fear, stress, and the rhythmic hum of the ride made her shut down and drift away. Unfortunately, she didn't drift far enough.

A voice starts commanding the soldiers as the opening and slamming of doors put them back on edge. Each of them were herded out the back like prisoners with their hands tied. They stand still, waiting for some kind of ball to drop when the secured burlap was ripped off Emily's face.

… _What the fuck...?_

Everyone was unmasked and had a chance to look at each other but Emily was in a state of confusion. She couldn't get understand how _dark_ it was. While they were driving in their Humvee, it wasn't even 3pm. Now it looked like it was about 7-8pm. Where the hell are they?

Through what they could see, the men huddled around the driver's side of their vehicle, discussing something of some sort. With the advantage of being so close together in the dark, it was utilized immediately.

"Is this Al-Qaeda?" Romero whispers anxiously with his wide eyes darting wildly between everyone. "Are we hostages for _Al-Qaeda_?! Oh God," he starts panting, bowing and shaking his head as he feels like he's about to cry. "Oh God, oh God, oh God! Dios ayude, por favor-"

"Romero, keep it together!" Losey hisses harshly in his direction.

A sudden shout makes all of their head turn towards the truck where one of the men were pointing at them. They just stood in despair as their capturers angrily walked towards them with some kind of ripped fabrics and flashlights pointed like police raiding a house late at night. From being bagged to confuse their sense of location, they were all gagged to keep from talking to each other. Emily gets her mouth forcibly opened and stuffed with a torn piece of a cotton shirt and then sealed over with a slab of duct tape. The man firmly pats her dirty cheek for good measure, making Emily flinch from the sting as he smiled. She raises her head to look at the young man and immediately gets locked in his large brown eyes. They weren't light or honeyed or anything else you'd see in a magazine. They were dark. Even with the flashlights, you could hardly see his pupils.

He walks away from her and moves back to his men when Emily catches a glimpse of Romero. They both stare at each other with tape over their mouths, hopeless. If only they were able to talk via thoughts…

Emily starts blinking at him, creating a code to communicate with but not even past her third letter, a tear falls out of his eye, rolling down his face before he bows his head away from her.

 _Nononono, Isaac look at me. Look at me, please._

An unexpected shove from behind sends Emily's jolting forward, falling onto her stomach with her face landing on the hard dirt floor with the lack of hands to break her fall. She groans out in pain when two pairs of hands grab each arm and lift her back onto her wobbling feet.

"Go!" a simple command from a thick accent is spoken as they are again pushed and forced to walk into a seemingly never ending amount of land and dirt.

...

A poke against Emily's forehead causes her eyes to fly open and heart to pound when she sees herself looking down the barrel of a rifle. The veiled man motions with a jerk of his head for Emily to chin up. She does as she's silently instructed and the gunman slowly walks back to a table and chair. He takes a seat and continues taking a bite of his sandwich, resting his weapon on his lap with the nozzle pointing at the soldiers.

After tirelessly walking a few miles with no knowledge of where they were or where they were going, they finally approach this cave-like entrance. Immediately, Emily and the others were hesitant and started slowing down their pace when the shoving began. You don't have to watch the news - a simple viewing of any movie where people are taken to an unknown and hidden location against their will would give you an idea of where this was going. However, when walked inside, it appeared to be more man-made than natural. There were rooms closed off by wooden doors made from hand, just enough to fit into the entry space. All five of them were tossed into one of the candlelit dens, with one sole man made to watch them.

And that's where they've been ever since. Sitting on the ground with their hands bounded, humid inside their uniforms with no food, no water, and no sleeping. They're not sure how long it's been since they originally arrived but with the guard switching shifts three times already, one could figure that they've been forced awake for over 24 hours.

At least their mouths weren't taped anymore.

The sounds of the guard chewing loudly made Emily realize how dry her own throat was and how the last thing she had consumed was a Pop-Tart her and Losey shared in the truck. Cookies and cream. How much she would give to have that right now…

The abrupt, rough opening of the door snaps everyone's attention to the far right when a number of flashlights are waved into the room, followed by large men holding them. Each man grabbed a solider and hauled them out of the room, one by one, until the last standing man remained. Emily's pores began opening up with nervous sweat releasing in waterfalls as she watched this man wink at her with a side smile and nod the guard out of the room. He wasn't as heavy set as the other men but he wasn't skinny, he was fairly fit. Another thing drastically different about him was that he wasn't one of the guys that picked them up from the crash. He was dressed completely different.

Casual? Expensive, even?

The guard closes the door behinds him, leaving the stranger and Emily by themselves.

Emily keeps her eyes on the man to watch his every movement and see the surprises come before they come, however, the male has his eyes on the ground. Standing sideways from Emily, the room is quiet for a long, excruciating 20 seconds of no movement, except from Emily's ever-growing heart pace that she's sure he can hear now.

The man sucks his teeth and turns to the chair, the buckles of his boots clink as he drags his feet against the ground, walking towards it, and tugs it away from the table. Emily watches him places it towards the center of the room before he then turns towards her. Resting his hand on the back of the chair, he waves Emily over to him.

Her brain processes 15 different emotions all in .639 seconds before she sluggishly rolls up from her side to get up on her feet. Within doing so, her joints groaned and cracked like an elderly woman who hasn't done any exercises in 20 years. The lack of vitamin and water, along with the restraints, made the simple task of standing impossible, causing Emily to become lightheaded. The man quickly rushes to Emily's side as she tries to find her footing and assists her to the chair himself. Emily's reflexes are to thank him for helping but she keeps her mouth shut and eyes forward, she already screwed up by showing him that she's weakened.

The man stands behind her for a few more seconds before he drags his way to the front of her view. He seemed in no real rush to announce his presence as he stroked his thick goatee. At this time, Emily took a real good observation of him while he paced. His slim, heart shaped face gave way to his age a bit, showing that he wasn't a fully grown man. If Emily had to guess, with his facial hair, he looked to be less than 30 years old. His dark hair was slicked back in a pompadour-like style to match his flair of luxury apparel which was light and comfortable with a side of jewelry.

Emily internally scoffed to herself. _This guy was a real pretty boy._

He stopped one foot dramatically after another with the boot buckles jingling before he slowly spun to face Emily. Front and center.

Emily lets out a silent, deep breath as she braces herself for whatever is next to come.

"Fields, right?" the young man asks politely as he places his hands behind his back, rocking on the soles on his feet. Unconsciously, Emily's eyes narrow and head subtly tilts like puppy who is trying to understand something. For who knows how long, Emily has not heard any English being spoken by anyone from the opposite camp so hearing not only English but damn near perfect English with a hint of the native accent took her for a bit of shock.

"Your name tape….it says Fields." he points at her uniform to show her where he got her name from since she seemed confused. Emily keeps looking at him, unmoving. The man bows his head, putting his hand behind his back again at her silence.

"Right…Well, my name is Majid and I tell you this because I think we're going to become good friends." he begins pacing in front of her. "But the only way we can become good friends is through trust. Without trust, there is no friendship." he stops and turns his head to Emily. "Just _enemies_."

Walking over and bending down to her level, Emily locks eyes with him, showing no fear even though her insides were rattling.

"This question is going to let us know if we are friends or enemies, Fields." Majid's face stretches up in a smile. Emily glances down at the light freckles painted across the bridge of his nose and at the rest of his face before she looks back up into his brown eyes. The lines of his facial hair where sharp and crisp as if he just got a touch up just yesterday. His skin was smooth and rich, nearly flawless with no blemish in sight. His bright teethed smile holds for a few seconds before it fell down into a serious, hard grimace with clench of his jaw.

"You and your _little group_ ," he pokes Emily's chest with slight pressure behind it, "have something that belong to us…Where is it?"

 _Blink…Blink…_

Emily stays silent.

Majid takes a great, large inhale before he breathes it out with a loud groan, backing out of Emily's face as he rubs his tumbles. In the many months of training Emily had to endure, one of them was exactly this scenario. Hostage. If the situation was to ever occur where you are being held hostage and interrogated, there are two rules one must remember if all else fails: never admit anything to the enemy and never accept anything from the enemy.

"I am a man that has _no_ patience whatsoever, Fields. So, me asking you _politely,_ " Majid stresses the word with his eyes closed and fingers clasped together by his face, "is unheard of! So, I'm going to ask you one last time. _And it will be the very last time!_ " he carefully brushes his hand through the top of his hair before he folds his hands in a prayer in front of his nose, walking back in front of Emily. He takes another breath and looks at her through his glare.

"Where is our shit?"

"I don't know what-"

Emily's vision blurs midsentence as the sting of a hard landing smack settles onto her face. The loud and blunt echo of the sound bounces around the den as the pain of not only of the power behind Majid's hand but his rings cause a temporarily daze.

"You want to run that by me again?" Majid crosses his hands behind his back and leans into Emily, waiting for an answer. He raises a brow with his mouth hung open and listens to Emily cough. "You…Don't have an answer for me? Again? Alright. Enemy it is."

Majid grabs Emily by the roots of her hair and yanks her to her feet, creating a noisy scuffle as he kicks the chair across to the other side. Emily flexes against her restraints in agony as he forcibly walks her with her face turned up. As she breathes through her mouth, Majid goes from gripping to palming the back of Emily's head in one fluid motion and slams Emily's face into the cold surface of the metal table. Shock radiated throughout her entire body like lightning speed as she gasped for air she couldn't find. Majid's fingers burrow themselves nice and snug in Emily's warm hair as she resisted underneath him but he presses his whole weight against her so she wasn't able to go anywhere.

"You want to make an enemy out of me, hm? That's your final answer?" Majid lowers himself into Emily's ear as she her pants came out shaky and unsteady, eyes enlarged to full extent. She stutters out incoherent words in the midst of her hyper gasping. With her face squished against the table, she feels her nose running and glances down to see a rapid growing of dark red liquid pooling onto the table and getting closer and closer to her face until it soaked into her skin. Majid grips her hair and hurls her off the table into the blackness of the cave where she plummets hard onto the floor. He turns around to face her and Emily scurries backwards with tears filling the brims of her eyes until her backs hits a wall.

"It's going to be fun to break you." he laughs to himself as he adjusts the watch on his wrist. "Yes, it will…"

Emily's chest heaves in and out heavily as she witnesses him fix himself, walk towards the door, and leave before she starts to panic. The mixture of hot tears and blood rushes down her face as she tries to collect all of her thoughts. She has no idea what's about to happen in the next 30 seconds but she needs to be prepared somehow. But with her hands tied, she's completely helpless.

The question he asked her was completely baffling, nevertheless. She has truly no idea what "his shit" is or why her people would have it. It's no secret she has done a few missions where they had to retrieve things from the enemy but that can't possibly be it….can it? Those are generic missions, most of the time!

 _Breathe in…_

 _Breathe out…_

 _Breathe in…_

 _Breathe out…_

A sharp, electric sting fires off in her nose and Emily whines out in pain, making her curl her toes inside her boots in reaction.

 _He broke my nose - he broke my nose - he broke my nose…_ Emily keeps repeating to herself mentally. Just by feeling the amount of blood running and how much intense agony she's in, she's 100% certain in the way he smashed her face into the table, he broke her nose.

She spits out a wad of blood that trickled from the back of her nose to her throat and tried to get herself together. It was about a matter of time before "Majid" or someone else came back for some more interrogation and Emily had to be ready to endure as much as they were going to throw at her.

…..Hopefully.

" _God, don't let them kill me. God, don't let them kill me. God, don't let them kill me. God, don't let them kill me. God, please, don't let them ki-_ "

The door is kicked open hard enough to almost put a whole foot through the middle of the wooden door when Majid makes his appearance again. Emily immediately straightens up on sight, her fingers shaking uncontrollably behind her as he walks into the den. Behind him, the rest of her crewmen were pushed inside, still bounded. Majid keeps his eyes on the walls and one hand rubbing the back of his neck when he snaps and points to the floor, making the direct order of having the men shoved onto the ground next to Emily. Romero falls particularly hard, landing on his bruised side as Burkett's bulkier body accidentally lands nearly on top of him. Everyone adjusts themselves and shifts into a more comfortable sitting position when Romero glances over in Emily's direction. His mouth drops in absolute horror when he sees the bloodied mess of her face and the crooked tilt of her nose. There was blood everywhere - on the side of her face, her mouth, her uniform, her hair was tussled…in the few minutes they were separated, it looked like they couldn't wait to go to town on her. She stares back at him with long, sorrowful eyes and it burned him within. He wanted to kill whoever did this to her.

Majid speaks out in his native language to one of the guys, prompting the man to reply back with a short response and a head shake. He goes to the next man who repeats the same as the other man. He does this action two more times to the two other men who both answer back in the same responses and head shake the prior men gave. Majid bowed his head with a chuckle. You didn't need a translator or Rosetta Stone to know that he asked if the others gave up information.

"What are you all trying to prove here? _Huh_?" Majid asks his prisoners as he stands in front of them. "Trying to prove that you're tough? That you're unbreakable? That you are certified United Stated military soldiers and we cannot be destroyed, sir!" he stands at attention and yells out in a mock chant as a soldier would before smiling shortly after. He starts pacing, dragging his boots along the cold, hard ground.

"I am a simple man. I ask for simple things. You took something that belongs to me and you have the _audacity_ to not tell me where it is?! I mean! Where is the respect in that? Where is the honor in that, _solider_?" Majid looms over Losey for a second, holding strict eye contact with him. The room becomes silent and everyone stares at them, Emily silently hoping he won't attack him the way he attacked her. After a couple seconds, Majid turns his face and continues to walk back and forth in his line, Losey letting out his breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"You're in my house now, therefore, you listen to my rules _if_ ….you want to live. That's just how things work around here. Because how I see it…you all are following after a leader _that's. not. me_." he taps his chest emphasizing every word. His eyes slowly cascades on each soldier. "I am your leader now. I am your _captain_ , I am your _major_ , I am your _general_ , I am your _father_." his sights end on Emily who stares up at him, withering in strength. She doesn't want to portray that she's frail because it's already a standard ideology that out of a group of people, the women would be the easiest to break but with the blunt trauma she just endured, she can't fully maintain her Wonder Woman mask as much as she would like.

"I should be everything. But you all? You're taking orders from someone who isn't me! And I can see how _confusing_ that is! Because you don't know who to listen to!" Majid smooths his hair back and shuffles his feet, fixing his stance as he puts both his hands up to his face like mock hand puppets.

"I'm saying to do this but you have that other person in your ear, saying to do that. I say tell me the location of my possessions that you guys _took_ from me, the other voice says 'Don't say anything. Stay quiet'. I want you all to be allies! They want you to be my enemy! I don't want trouble! He wants me become an unstable man! WELL, GUESS WHAT?!" In one swift, blink of an eye motion, Majid reaches behind his back, draws his handgun, and shoots Burkett three times at point blank range. His unsuspecting body jerks backwards from the hit as the thunder clap of the bullets leaving the chamber rips into his neck and face. His hot blood splatters all over Losey and Romero as he goes limp and falls backwards with a thud.

"YOU CAN'T SERVE TWO GODS! You have to serve just _one_!" Majid points. Unaffected by his brutal kill, he looks over at Burkett that was wedged in-between Romero and Losey and walks over to him. Romero scoots over and leans towards Emily when Majid nears closer out of fear.

"…And it looks like yours is dead. So….by default….you will listen to me and do as I say unless you want to be like your friend…." Majid trails off his sentence and scrunches up his face. He glances down at Burkett's body and inspects his uniform briefly. " _Burkett_ over here. Did I say it right? Was it Burkett?"

Majid looks over at Romero and Emily huddled together, trembling in shock then turns towards Losey and Wyler who both looked like someone pressed pause on them. The room was so eerily quiet, the sound of blood leaking out of Burkett's body and spilling onto the floor was magnified as if someone had a microphone hooked up to surround sound speakers. Majid pats the now dead body and hops up, tucking his gun back under his purple dress shirt.

"I'll give you some time to soak all that in." he takes a glimpse at the group for a moment and proceeds to walk out before he stops himself, shaking his head. He turns and points to Losey and Romero. "But you two, with me."

The guards move to action to grab the men when Romero instinctively turns to Emily, not wanting to separate. Seeing this man kill Burkett and probably was the one to order an attack on Emily, he couldn't leave knowing that this could be the last time he sees her. Whether it's by Majid killing her or him.

"It's okay." Emily whispers to him before the guard yanks Romero up from behind and drags him away until he was able to stand up. Majid mumbles something to the other two men standing in the corner and they nod, also making their way towards Emily and Wyler. As a guard got closer, Emily flinches and turns her head away when he pulls out a knife on her, however, he turns her around and cuts her from her restraints.

"While you two think about your new-found life choices, here's something to sustain on just so you won't willingly die on me before I get what I need." Majid kicks a small rusty bucket towards Burkett's body that held a few bottles of water and crackers. "Be careful, though. Keep up the no talking act and the next time you get food and water will be in a week." Majid closes the door on them and alone they were in the candlelight.

No men.

No guards.

Just Wyler, Emily, and Burkett.

Wyler sighs, rubbing his wrists after all these hours that he's been tied up until he heard the sound of Velcro ripping. With no sight, he continues to listen to Emily moving since there is a shade of darkness in between them where the light doesn't reach. He hears her lightly counting to herself from 10, not sure exactly what she was doing.

"5…4…3…2…" Emily squeezes down with all her might and realigns her nose with the push of both thumbs. A truckload of pain runs down her face again as she could slightly hear the bone crack as she pushed.

" _Fuck_! _Ah_ … _Fuck_!" her eyes watered and teared immediately as she grabbed the mini cloths she had in her leg pocket and stuffed her nose. Although the pain was tough to handle, emotional distress was mixed in those tears as well. Seconds later, low sobbing came from the far left corner of the den where Emily held her head up yet brought her knees to her chest and began to finally release the emotions she's been feeling inside since the crash.

...

Day after day passes by with the segregated interrogations and two things have been noted.

1: Burkett's decaying body is started to release a smell into the den that has nowhere to go but linger due to the lack of ventilation.

2: The day the soldiers met Majid was the easiest day. Ever since then, it's been raining hell from that point on. If it wasn't the starvation or dehydration that started to wear on them, it might be the two bathroom trips a day that they are giving. One at 8am and one at 8pm. There isn't a standard bathroom where they could walk in and have privacy for at least two minutes to relieve themselves.

No. That's too humanizing.

It's a time where, one by one, they are brought to another private den where a bucket is placed in the corner. No matter how quick or how long, whether it's something as simple as urine or as difficult as diarrhea, they all must go in that same bucket in front of the guards until finished. Whoever is the last person to use it when it fills up has the pleasant responsibility of being walked to a secluded outside location and discard it for reuse.

If it's the not humiliation that's breaking them down, the constant abuse might possibly one of the factors. Due to them not giving viable answers to Majid the way he wants it, every day like clockwork, each person is grabbed, isolated, and used as training workout by one of the men assigned to them that day to have the answers beaten out. Although they try to fight back, with their already deteriorating system, their reaction time is slower than usual which makes it more fun of an ass kicking for the guards. That's why they leave their hands untied during this procedure. What good use are they anyway at this point?

While the other guys get different men every day to use them as punching bags, Majid assigned the weakest man on his team to Emily, who was still nearly three times stronger than her. After the second day of beatings, if Emily had any information, she would have gave something up by then but the fact of the matter is, she _truly_ has no idea what Majid or his people are talking about. She even offered as much as saying maybe they killed the wrong people. Maybe the truck in front of them were the people who stole from them. But that theory didn't reach very far before she got punched directly in her gut, knocking the complete wind out of her.

Day after day of this torture, the thoughts if help was coming for them started circulating.

Day 7….

"Em….I don't want you to see me as a bitch or nothin' but….I can't do this anymore." Wyler's low, rough voice filled with defeat catches Emily's attention as they sit in the warm and dark den. The candle has been out for a couple days now and nobody has ever came to light it again. It gets silent for a few seconds before he speaks again.

"I'm dyin', Em."

Using her jacket scrunched up as a pillow, Emily takes deep, careful breaths. The bruising on her stomach from the recent blow made it difficult to breathe.

"You're not dying. And you're not a bitch neither." she responds with a slight voice crack. She coughs to clear her throat and immediately regrets it as her stomach flexed and made her pulse in ache. She tries to lightly soothe herself with light massages but that hardly did of any use. "We just need to hold out a bit longer. I know the base is going on a manhunt for us right now so we just gotta….we just gotta hold on through this." she tells him….and herself.

"No one knows where we are, _man_." Wyler whines out as he shakes his head, looking out into the darkness in front of him. "The last thing that was put out was a RPG warning and that's it. So, when they get there, all they're gonna see is an overturned humvee and a pile of ash that used to be humvee with people in it. These fuckers took us all the way out to yakland where not even we know where we are on the map. They're not gonna find us. Nobody is."

"They're going to find us we just-"

" _Emily!_ Have you ever watched the news?! Or politics for that matter?!" the combination between irritation, desperation, and suffering rolls up into a ball of aggression as Wyler snaps at Emily who laid on the other side of the den. "Do you know how long it takes for the U.S. to rescue just one journalist? _A journalist!_ You had that one dude who was locked up for years before he was picked up! The other got killed because we took too long to get him! We're dealing with hotheads in the middle of the desert. We're screwed, man, we are fucking screwed." Wyler's breathing starts turning into faint wheezes as he desperately looks around.

Emily has no kind of response back to his statement. For the most part, she's been trying to ignore the negatives and hold onto the small shavings of positivity before they turn to powder and melt into the ground. But he's right. What are the possibilities that they'll be found at this rate?

"Fuck my dad!" Wyler randomly yells, making Emily's heart jump up and attach itself to her skin. The silence and her thoughts were not a place for a pop-up scare.

"Fuck that wrinkled piece of shit bastard! I only joined the military for him. To make him proud of me because everything I've ever done, to him in his eyes, is a disappointment. A failure to his name. I didn't grow up saying I wanted to join the army. I want to fucking… _dance_!" spit flies out on the word as Wyler works himself up at the thought of his father. A father Emily has only heard him mention once since she's met him. She listens on as his breathing starts getting harsher.

"Ever since I was young, I had a nack for dancing. That was my passion, my outlet, that was what I was known for. I was never patriotic. I couldn't care less about that - this hoorah shit. Back then, my only worries was polishing my moves and getting better just in case someone tried to challenge me in a battle." the room gets quiet again and Emily's not sure whether she should stay silent or say something. This news was mind-blowing to her. The thought of Wyler dancing, let alone being good at it was something she couldn't imagine. If anything, he appears as the typical army jock that probably made the decision to join when he was a kid.

 _But dancing? Seriously? Why has he never mentioned this before?_

Wyler chuckles to himself, a drastic change from the explosive attitude he had 20 seconds ago.

"You'd never guess what my nickname was."

"What?"

"Heh…M&H. Milk & Honey." Wyler beamed proudly as he recalled some of the best moments of his life pre-military. "I moved like milk and I attracted the honeys."

Both Wyler and Emily start snickering at the same time from the corny yet funny motto he went by before they became full giggles.

"Moved like milk and attracted the honeys. You were that good, huh?"

"I was better than good, I was _awesome_. I did all kinds of different styles. From breakdancing to contemporary to salsa – I even took ballet once upon a time." Wyler excitedly tells her, almost like a child telling a story. "There were once auditions being held in the city. Chicago. Chitown. Usher had two shows there but some kind of accident happened and they were short three dancers. So the auditions were set as an emergency. They needed three great dancers who can pick up choreo really fast for the show that was the day after tomorrow. I went on a Hail Mary whim by going to audition and landed a spot. Usher's backup dancer for two days. That news…..that news was better than sex, let me tell you." Wyler laughs, rubbing his chest as Emily smiled.

"I thought I finally did it. I can dance, put my name out there, make some connections, and then fly to Cali to start my life as a dancer. Do backup for artists, start doing my own choreo, I mean the whole nine. I was geeked as _shit_ and ran and told my father." his smile slowly fades from that once cheery mood he was just in unbeknownst to Emily. "You know what he said to me? _'Only faggots dance. And he didn't raise a faggot for a son'_."

Emily's smile was wiped off her face in such a distasteful way. It was almost a plot twist from the story she was enjoying. What kind of person says that? About dancing of all things?

"All I want is for him to be proud of me. To smile, to hug me, to be a fucking dad." Tears run down Wyler's face and he doesn't wipe them away. All he can do is ball his hands into tight fists. "Did you know that prick didn't even go to the show? It was free for him and he didn't go. Nah, probably too busy shoving his head up his ass to support me. He said I wasn't a real man until I did something useful for society. I lived for that man's approval. It was only me and him. So…" he pushes out a laugh. "So I joined the fucking Army! Just to be a _real man_! Went a step further, stuck my cock out, and joined the Rangers! Just to be a _real man_! So, fuck you, Phillips Wyler! I shouldn't even be here!" Wyler shouts as if his father was standing right in front of him. Emily instantly gets anxious, afraid the guards will hear and burst in if he doesn't pipe down.

"Why aren't you here instead, you pussy?! Why is your bitch ass sitting comfortably at home while your faggot son is being held prisoner somewhere in the desert, you dumb fuck! You pathetic attempt of a father! I hate you so much!" Wyler swings his arms out in front of him and roars out a war cry like holler before he grabs his head, bringing his chin to his chest.

"Why do I have to fucking die before him?"

Emily groans as she forces herself to sit up but no matter how many times she tried, she was unable to move from where she laid. "You're not dying, Matthew." she sighs before she turned her head in his direction. "We're not dying, okay?"

"I am dying."

"No, you're not." Emily reiterates stronger this time as she hears him softly repeating it over and over to himself. "Matt. Listen to me. You're going to survive this. You are _not_ alone in this. You have to keep your head up!"

Emily waits for a reply from him but only hears various movements coming from his end before silence sits between them for a while.

"…Then grant me the permission for a 6-8, Lieutenant."

Emily's eyes widened immediately.

"Whatever you're doing….don't, Wyler."

"Grant me permission to take a break, Lieutenant."

Through the pain that sidelined her earlier, Emily compels herself to sit up. The air in the den suddenly went extremely cold. If there were candles lit, the change in aura certainly would have blown it out. Emily's mental math was put together in Barry Allen speed. His attitude, the sudden change from informal to formal acknowledgment, the numbers. 6-8 refers to when a solider goes off-duty so Wyler specifically asking for permission didn't tell Emily he wanted to get out of his uniform and walk into a mall in his civilian clothing.

He was demanding something else of her….. _but how?_

"Wyler, what are you doing?" Emily uses a more firm voice since she can't see him.

"Burkett…." Wyler swallows down hard on a dry throat that hasn't felt water in days, "he always carried a secret pistol in one of the hidden pockets of his uniform. Since we all weren't searched that well, I figured it would still be there. And it was."

Wyler cocks the barrel of the gun and Emily starts to internally panic.

"Sergent Wyler, this is not a suggestion, this is an order. I _do not_ give you permission for a break." Emily informs him in her authoritative voice now. They had hit the gas and were way past friends reminiscing about the past. They have went straight into the land of rank and superiority. "As my subordinate, you will listen to my demand, do you understand me?"

"I've let people control me all my life. But this? This is one thing I'm finally going to control. I'm not going to let some bullies and a dick walking around in designer shirts kill me. I rather take myself out than to let them to get that satisfaction."

Emily drags herself across the ground with one arm wrapped around her stomach and the other supporting all of her body weight. "So, you're just going to abandon your brothers, huh?" she inches towards Wyler, using the sliver of light underneath the crack of the door to guide her. "You're going to abandon people who are counting on you?"

"Look at Burkett! He's been laying here, decaying for days!" he fires back angrily as he begins to choke on his tears. "If we had light in here, I'm pretty sure we'd see bugs feeding off his flesh! And it stinks like rotten death in here! They did that to him and he didn't even do anything!"

"So, you're just going to leave _me_ here?! _By myself_?!" Emily finally reaches him, using all her energy to punch his shin.

"Ow! What the hell!"

"You don't think I'm scared SHITLESS?! You don't think that I'm praying that none of us is next to go?! You don't think FOR A SECOND that I'm not terrified that Majid or whatever the _fuck_ his name is doesn't get bored and tries to rape me?! Or sends his men to do it?! Just because?!"

Although he can't see her that well, his eyes adjust to her silhouette in front of him just using the dim light on the floor. He stares at her, listening to her heavy panting after that bombshell of a revelation. That was something he tended to think about but always ended up blocking it.

"And we don't have the slightest clue what's going on with Romero or fucking Losey! They could be dead for all we know! You're not the only one going through the shit, Matthew, please!" Emily takes a grab of the fabric of Wyler's pants in encouragement, shaking his leg. "We took an oath. We made a pact. We are supposed to protect each other through everything! We are our brother's keeper!"

Wyler closes his eyes and exhales through his mouth. He moves his trembling fingers onto his left wrist where he pulls off his black and white wristband. He leans forward and reaches for Emily, trying to find a body part before he grabs her shoulder. Trailing his hands down until he finds her hand, he rolls the wristband on her wrist and then fumbles his hand back up to hold the back of her neck.

"I love you, Emily." he weeps out, digging his fingers into her skin.

Emily throws her arm and holds the side of Wyler's hot cheek, bringing them face to face. "We're right here, Matt. We need to be strong!"

"Even though I only known you for three months…I'm glad I met you. I'm…I love you, Em."

"I love you too." Tears escape Emily's eyes as Wyler places his forehead against hers, shaking his head while he silently sobbed.

"…I really did try to protect you…"

"Matthew, don't do this-"

Wyler shoves Emily backwards with such unanticipated strength that makes her tumble backwards onto the ground, landing on her hands. Her fatigue makes her slow to recover when she hears the clanking of metal.

"Matthew-MATTHEW, PLEASE!"

The firearm explodes with an ear-splitting crack that raised Emily's heart at least three tempos faster as she hears the gun fall to the floor.

" _FUUUUCK!_ FUCK! FUCK! FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK!" she shrieks out at high volume, pounding her fist onto the floor knuckles first. This was evolving into another level of a nightmarish hell every day and she couldn't believe that she allowed to let her friend slip right through her fingers like sand. Now two people were dead and she was alone with no idea what to do or how to handle the clusterfuck of a disaster spiraling out of control.

"MATTHEW, WHAT THE FUCK! _WHY?!_ WHY DID YOU DO THIS?!"

She felt herself about to dive into hysterics. She felt herself losing it. She started to feel everything all at once and it was suffocating her. The door bursts open with flashlights and Emily instantly shields her eyes. The two guards look on in disbelief at the scene they just walked into. Emily laid on her side, dirty, with her face stained with tears across from Wyler –dead from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head, slumped on the side of the wall his fresh blood painted. Both their eyes dart to Emily who locks sights with them.

Her heart stops.

"No…Nonononono! I didn't do anything!"

The men don't hesitant a second more and lunge for her, one grabbing each arm. Emily starts crying out and resists as much as she physically could before they drag her out of the den, kicking and screaming.

Day 12…

" **How do you feel about adopting?"**

" **Adoption?"**

" **Granted they won't biologically be ours but…they are so many kids out there, wishing and waiting for someone to love them. And it sucks because they have them set up like the pound in there." Emily sits between Paige's legs on the floor of their living room as Paige sat on the couch and brushed her hair. "I dunno. It's been something I've been thinking about, lately.**

" **So, you want kids…?" Paige asks. They've touched on this conversation before in the past but now she wanted to be clear if this was an idea Emily really wanted to venture out into.**

" **Why not? I'm getting** ** _old."_**

" **You're not even in your mid-twenties yet!"**

" **So!" Emily leans her head back, looking at Paige upside with a smile. "But I want a family. I want to have my own family." she turns around mid-hair stroke and hops onto the couch next to her girlfriend, holding her hand.**

" **There's this thought I've been playing over and over in my head. Me coming home from a long day of work, I open the door, and then here this…** ** _rumble_** **. This rumble of small patter against the floor. And out from around the corner, a little boy or little girl rushes down the hall and into my arms, soooo excited to see me." Emily smiles brightly at just the still imagine she had in her head. "Then you come, beautiful as ever, and welcome me home with one of my** ** _favorite_** **meals." Emily laughs before it faded to a hopefully smirk, massaging Paige's hand in hers as she gazed into her eyes. "I want that for** ** _us._ "**

" _Gah_ -" Majid gasps and covers his nose as he walks into the den with one other man. He disgustedly commented something in his language before he glances over at Emily sitting in the furthermost part of the corner.

"It _reeks_ in here, shit!" he waves his hand at Emily and the man begins walking over to her. She had no energy to fight, to resist, or to even look up for that matter. She keeps her face to the wall when she feels the tight grip around her arm. She's raised to her feet and walked towards the door, passing by Burkett's and Wyler's rotting bodies.

Her bare feet tapping against the ground while being pushed along a long, dim lighted hallway, Emily stays calm as she knows the predicament that she possibly could be in. They've been slowing up on the beatings, doing it every other day instead of daily, so Emily assumes this is just the run of the mill since she hasn't been hit in two days. A harsh grip on the back of Emily's neck replaced the other as she was shoved through a doorway into another room that had a little more light then hers.

"If I were to let you sit in your filth any longer, you might grow fungi out of your asses."

Lifting her head up from the neck thrust, Emily sees Romero and Losey standing inside of the den as well. A part of her soul was rested at that very second realizing they were still alive, however, the silent looks between them all when they noticed it was just Emily by herself, made the spirits in the room fall.

"So, me being the courteous man I am, I'm only going to say this once." Majid keeps his nose and mouth covered as several of familiar yet not pleasant faces moves in and out the room with various objects. "You all are going to strip out of those uniforms, right now. Any hesitations and you will regret it."

Everyone looks at each other, not sure what "strip" means. Strip out of the shirt and pants? Strip down to underwear? Strip naked?

Before Majid can count lack of movement hesitation, the remaining crew members keep their eyes to themselves as they slowly start removing their clothing. Emily keeps her back towards everyone and starts to remove her shirt. After all those days of sitting in isolation, she felt her body fuming all kinds of odors past her control. Never in her life has she not taken care of her hygiene nor went a day without showering so ruminating in grime for nearly two weeks was dehumanizing to say the least. She didn't feel like a person. She still had the dirt from the accident on her face because nowhere in hell was she going to waste her small drinking water to clean herself.

Emily, Losey, and Romero wait helpless in their undergarments, anticipating for the next command. At that moment, Romero's mind flashes to The Passion of The Christ where Jesus was stripped half-naked and brutality whipped with no defenses and he cannot help but shake at the thought of them being attacked in a similar way.

Majid cocks his head at the three who stood in front of him. "Is my English not _clear_ enough for you? I SAID STRIP."

Emily's eyes flickered up to the celling as she felt herself about to cry. Losey and Romero briefly glance at each other before they reached down and pulled off their briefs, covering themselves with their hands. Out of respect, they keep their eyes away from Emily and all Losey can do is curse to himself. This wasn't fair. This was cruel punishment and it made his stomach churn that Emily had to endure this with them.

She drops her sports bra and panties to the floor as she also covered herself. She didn't even want to turn around to face anyone. Emily thought she couldn't be broken down any more from everything she's went through so far but the humiliation she felt was beyond words. The brisk air hitting her naked skin raises goosebumps as she feels a rushed yet warm trickle running down her thighs.

 _If this couldn't get any worse…_

"Ms. Fields, your attention belongs on me not that wall."

Emily sluggishly turns around, keeping her head bowed when a tear fell out of her eye. Romero told himself not to look up but he couldn't help but scan his eyes quickly in Emily's direction when he saw blood trailing down her leg along with all kinds of bruises and welts left on her body. He drops his eyes again and clenches his jaw so tight that he felt himself unconsciously squeezing his manhood in his grasp.

Majid gives a signal and one of the men holding a large bottle steps up to Losey and starts pouring some kind of cold, thick liquid on his skin. He bites his tongue because if he had no regard for his life or the others, he would have uppercutted the jaw of the guard just for the last beating he got.

"We're going to make this as brief as possible." Majid informs the soldiers as the guard moves to Romero and then Emily, pouring the liquid onto both of them. Someone hands him a tied hose that came from the hallway and then it all clicked for all three of them.

"Can't say it will be enjoyable but I don't think you all would mind." Majid smiles then unties the hose, shooting out water at a high blast. The ice cold water pierces Emily's body first, making her yelp out as she tightly held onto herself.

"You two get in close! I'm not going to waste water going back and forth!" Majid orders over the roar of the water. Losey and Romero shuffle towards Emily, not getting a chance to brace themselves before they are blasted with cold water as well. "Wash yourselves, dumbasses!"

Losey is the first to let go of his genitals and begins vigorously lathering the assumed soap all over his body. He wasn't going to throw away this time to clean himself. The others follow after him and begin to do their best to wash but keeping their defenses up in case someone decides to add a surprise.

...

After their embarrassing shower show in front of everyone, each is handed a grey perahan tunban, a loose top that falls right at the knees and matching bottoms worn by the male locals, as they watched the guards burn their uniforms. They were then tossed into the same den Romero and Losey where being held. It felt like a breath of fresh air for Emily to not be surrounded by the death of her comrades. They kept silent until they were sure the coast was clear from lurking ears. The first thing, before anyone spoke, was Romero running up to Emily, holding her in a tight embrace as if she was the love of his life he hasn't seen in years. He holds the back of her head and whispering to himself in relief after over a week of separation. After what feels like a lifetime, Romero finally lets go, allowing Losey standing by to get his turn. The emotions felt truly overwhelming by the time Losey wrapped his buff arms around Emily. She couldn't help the tear that left her eye but she wiped it just as fast as it came.

They both pull apart and are left standing there. The elephant in the room was large and suffocating every moment they tried to ignore it but nobody wanted to bring it up because nobody truly wanted to hear the details.

But someone has to ask.

"What happened?" Losey questions quietly.

Emily nodded her head before her eyes had fell to the ground. Another moment of relieving something she has relieved every minute since it happened. "Wyler didn't make it. He, _uhm_ ….he…" she slides her foot against the hard ground as she tried to find the simplest way to describe such a gruesome act. "He took himself out."

Losey and Romero's eyes bulge at the same time, jaws nearly disconnected and smacked onto the floor. "What?! How?" they pressed on in unison.

"Burkett had a concealed handgun in his uniform and…" the words get caught up in Emily's throat, sending Romero to walk off, shaking and holding his head. Losey can't believe he lost two of his right hand men. Especially Wyler - not him. This didn't sound right at all.

"Please tell me he took out one of those bitches before doing it."

" _No_ -" Emily's voice disappears and all she could do is look up at Losey in sadness. She was right there and if she would have done more, convinced harder, or even ripped the gun out of his hand, Wyler would still be alive and not used a torture prop.

Without thinking, Losey pulls Emily in for another hug just for strength and support. The hug was turned into a group hug when Romero comes from behind and leans into her. She's never felt so protected during her whole deployment until that second, even if they're surrounded by danger that is threatening to kill any one of them.

...

All three of them sit on the ground side by side instead of a circle as suggested earlier in case they get walked in on. Their lives right now were so unpredictable that they were just living minute to minute until something directs them to the next step.

Losey looks down at his clothing and sighs, tilting his head to the side. "I'm waiting for the part of the show where they force us to convert to Islam or else they chop our heads off."

Romero head pops up like a groundhog, his eyes fearful from the thought. "I-I can't do that. I can't. Jesus Christ is my lord and savior and I could never denounce him. If I turn from him, he'll turn from me, I can't convert. I-I-I-I can't even fathom putting the words together to do something like that." he spills out, stutters and all, like he only had a few seconds to speak with a garbled mind. Losey pats his shoulder, gesturing him to relax as it looked like he was about to have a panic attack. He then turns his head to Emily sitting on the other side of him.

"What about you, Em? Could you denounce the big JC?" Emily goes to open her mouth when he hits her with a different question to answer. "What's your view anyway? With the whole gay thing, do you follow it? Think it's horseshit? Don't really care?"

Emily strokes her hair back, exhaling a great deal as she thinks. "I mean, I was raised on that all my life. Plus, my girlfriend, Paige, and I actually go to church when we can. To me, I believe there is a higher power. There has to be. For anything to make sense, anyways." she glances down at her clothes and starts absent-mindedly picking at it. "It gives me a peace of mind, I guess, to let things go that I cannot control. But just because I'm gay doesn't change mean I don't have some kind of faith in something beyond us. Plus most people who claim to be religious don't even read their bibles so I learned to tune out the hypocrites long ago. They wouldn't know who God was if he was standing right in front of them."

Losey puts his face forward, chewing on his bottom lip. "Does God hate us enough to put us through this?"

The den was left silent. It's always a hard thing to answer or give some logical explanation behind what God does, yet, it was a question they all had to themselves. Why are they going through this? Why are they suffering for something they have no clue about? Why them?

"He says he doesn't give us more than we can carry. If he brings us to it, it'll bring us through it…" Romero offers.

"Tell that to Wyler and Burkett who got crushed under that weight, waiting for that help." Losey spins back a response which puts the den silent again. Emily flickers her eyes closed, trying to not recreate the blast in her head for the 200th time.

"We're going to carry our own weight. Luckily for you guys, I bench 275." Losey clears his throat as he stands, Emily and Romero glancing up at him. He walks towards the corner, darkest part of the den, disappearing for a moment before he comes back into sight with a black pocket knife, his army compass, and a light pointer.

"We're leaving tonight."

Emily and Romero both scramble to their feet, with Romero getting up much quicker than her. "Since when did you have that stuff?" he brings his voice all the way down to a hushed whisper. "You never mentioned you had weapons."

"They're not weapons. It's a standard things I packed with me every day." Losey walks them to the corner he came from to get as far away from the door as possible. He motions them to sit down since there was no point in standing.

"Ever since we've been here, I've been counting. Counting steps, counting seconds, and recounting. These guys here work by a schedule, and being here for so long, I think I cracked it. And then some." he slowly switches his gaze from Romero to Emily. "You guys might have been good at groundwork but there's a reason why I'm geospatial intelligence. I know some shit."

Emily never experienced the urge to kiss a guy like she wanted to do to Losey. Granted, it wouldn't be all that satisfying but when someone hands you a plate of hope, you start to feel all kinds of emotions. They're going to be able to finally escape this hell once and for all. Her stomach was fluttering with butterflies.

"There are guards that switch back and forth in shifts, they're not all here at the same time. It may look like it but that's what they want you to think, that we're surrounded, but there is only a couple of them at once. Never all of them like the day we got here. Now, that room where they take us on bathroom breaks. Have any of you had to throw out that shit bucket?"

Emily and Romero shake their heads.

"Well, I had to. _Twice_. Motherfuckers purposely used it in order to fill it up so we would have to touch that shit to throw it out. Jokes on them because it gave me two opportunities to see exactly what's going on. When you have to toss it, they take you outside. There's a pickup truck out there where I guess is their transportation. They don't stay here. We do and someone keeps watch but they don't stay here."

"How do you know when they switch?" Emily tosses in her question. "They don't sit and watch us anymore."

"Two things. Bathroom breaks," Losey points at an empty bucket in the corner. "And food. Everything and everyone is brought in by truck. If you notice the guy who takes you to piss in the beginning is someone different by the next. So, what we have to do is wait and intercept when they switch, right before the truck leaves. It's a long shot, might not even be successful but we have to try."

While all down for a plan, Romero still isn't fully understanding on the minor details in this big picture. "How are we going to do that? How would we know? We don't have eyes anywhere."

"We're gotdamn Army Rangers. We create eyes, bitch." Losey snaps with some old school Losey attitude. Romero laughs, putting his hands up in the air before Losey grabs his shoulder and shakes him. He then turns to Emily.

"What do you say, Lieutenant? Do we have permission to carry this operation out and defeat the Huns?"

In the first time in days, Emily smiles with all teeth. Romero and Losey grin at her glow they haven't seen since the accident. Through all her swollen features, purple bruising, and still slightly crooked nose, she was still able to brighten up a room.

"I've never been so excited to listen to military jargon in my life. I'm fucking ready."

...

Romero lays in the center of the den, Emily and Losey on either side of him, napping, when his foot is kicked. His eyes shoot open and above him is one of the guards, armed with his assault rifle, nodding him to get up. Romero groggily stands on his feet, yawning, before he was yanked towards the door for taking so long. It was their last bathroom break for the day and he was the first to go. He shuffles his way out as the guard walks behind him. Losey and Emily slink past the door, staying as silent as air as they trailed behind the man. They mocked his footsteps, inching up closer and closer…

Losey scoots forward and covers his hand around the guard's mouth, jabbing his sharp knife into the man's jugular. He struggles indefinitely before he succumbs to the violent attack, falling lifeless in Losey's arms as he bled out. Romero quickly swoops in and snatches the gun out of his hands as Losey drags the body into a random, nearby den. As soon as all three of them enter, Romero and Losey's faces scrunch up in utter disgust as a powerful stench rocks them off their feet. Losey holds his breath and pulls the guard further inside before he drops him on the ground, slipping the knife out of his neck. He quickly searched his body for anything that can benefit them in their escape. Unfortunately, he comes up empty. He internally groans as he stands up, wiping his forehead with the back of his bloody hand.

When he turns back to face Emily and Romero, he sees Romero, concealing his nose with his shirt, paralyzed with shock. His eyes follows his line of sight and comes across the body of Wyler and Burkett, something he didn't notice when he first came in.

A visual all three never wished to see was left right in front of them as some kind of sick display. All they needed was a spotlight and a blinking neon sign to exhibit their loss, at this point. They were his brothers and they were taken away from him. From all of them.

Losey shakes his head, getting out of his mind and at the mission at hand. He wipes the knife on his shirt and passes it to Emily as Romero does a head and chest cross.

"We gotta keep moving."

They acknowledge this with a slow head nod before Romero does a quick check of how many bullets he was working with. Once squared away, they head towards the door and get ready to execute their massive break. Losey moves to the front and leads the back with Emily in the middle and Romero in the back as they creep into the hallway. His main goal was to make it all the way to the outside exit and pray that there is some kind of vehicle there. If not, they're just going to have to make a run for it and hope they're somewhere nearby civilization.

Emily's heart was beating like a hummingbird as they were in full stealth mode.

 _Don't breathe. Don't breathe. Don't breathe. Don't breathe. Don't breathe._

A voice is heard in the distance straight ahead and their first instinct was to scramble. Romero slid himself in one of the dark corners of the hall while Losey and Emily push themselves in yet another cove to hide. Losey spins himself behind the door and closes it just enough for him to see through the crack. Emily recognized the room fairly quickly. It was the interrogation room they were thrown in every single day to defend their organs from failing due to blow after blow. She could still make out the lingering scent that Majid wore that smelled like pure aftershave.

Emily stays close behind Losey, waiting for his okay to move out. Her adrenaline was breaking the scale from all this. Although they've carried out similar missions before, at least they were fully armed with backup. Here, all they have is loose fabric draped over their bodies and whatever object they found to defend themselves. They didn't even have shoes on their feet.

Romero flashes a signal Losey's way and he alerts Emily over his shoulder that they were about to move again. Emily gives him the okay and he guardedly opens the door, watching Romero sneak out of hiding before he follows after him. Emily takes a step behind when a hand shields her mouth, placing a cold piece of metal by her temple.

" _Shhh_ …." the voice whispers hotly into her ear as he pulls her back calmly into the darkness of the room. Emily's eyes gawk in horror as she feels a chest heaving against her back, the aroma of alcohol surrounding them both.

It wasn't a "lingering scent" she smelled when they came into the room…it was a current scent.

Emily holds the knife tightly at her side, hoping he doesn't notice it. So focused on leaving, she's not even sure if the guys realized she wasn't following behind them.

This was it. She was certain that this was it. The main objective was to not get caught and the first thing she does is wind up in the arms of a cold-blooded man who will not hesitate to put her down like a stray dog.

A few seconds later she hears scuffling of feet hitting the floor.

" _Emily_ …" someone whispers out. " _Emily!_ "

Emily doesn't move a muscle as Majid holds onto her mouth tighter, fully constricting any air for her to breathe.

" _Em!_ "

A loud yell is heard followed by a rapid fire of bullets. Emily begins to tremble as the loud pops echo throughout the entire area. Not being able to see anything worsened her fears when the shooting stopped. So many outcomes where possible from just one sound and she doesn't think she can handle any more of her people being killed.

It gets silent again before the room door opens with Romero pushing through. "Emi-"

"Don't be a hero." Majid warns from behind as he positions himself parallel to Emily as soon as Romero immediately fell into an aiming stance so he couldn't have a clear shot. "One move and she dies."

Romero locks eyes with Majid, glaring at him with deadly vision, before he starts to lower his weapon. Losey rushes into the room with another stolen gun and stumbles right into one of the most nerve-racking scenes he has ever encountered.

"Don't move!" Majid barks out, now holding onto Emily tighter. Losey and Romero halt all sudden movements while they stare at Emily who looks back at them, petrified. Their plan went from smooth sailing to 30 feet waves, capsizing the boat into the chilling waters.

"I invite you into my home away from home and you start killing my men? And now you think you're going to escape scotch-free?" Majid gives a snarl of a smile, shaking his head. "You can go and try to run. You'll die out there before you'll ever see people. But this one….stays with me"

"No-" Romero denies the idea, only to get cut off with a boisterous shout.

"This is NOT a bargain! You're going to leave." Majid lowers his voice to a breathy whisper as he glared at the men from behind Emily's hair. " _Right now_."

Neither guys move despite the demand. Romero subtly scans Emily and Majid's body positions as he grips his gun harder, going through multiple scenarios that could end this. They came this far, lost too much, and refuse to leave someone behind. Unfortunately, the bastard was smart enough to use her as a human shield with unattainable opportunities to take him out.

"Stop testing my patience!" Majid hikes backwards, further into the den, making Emily nearly trip over her own feet. Romero and Losey move forward out of reflex and Majid moves the gun from Emily's head and points it at them. His uncontainable anger causes his native accent to mix in profoundly with his English as he breathes in heavy pants. "Ever since you've came here, you've been _testing! My patience_! So, I tell you what….You have five seconds to disappear before I fire a bullet through her brain. And please do not try me because I will do it! GET THE FUCK OUT!"

Emily's nose burned as the fluids from both her nostrils and eyes rolled onto the back Majid's tanned hand with her anxiety turned into frantic. She couldn't believe this was actually happening. This wasn't a dream, a daydream thought that went bad, or a figment of her wicked imagination. She has dedicated years to the United States military, pushing her body beyond limits that she never thought she could reach and have done hundreds of drills on survival. She has trained and mastered various skill sets that the average person only dreams of accomplishing. She was so worthy that she was one of the first ever women to be inducted into the elite team of the 75th regiment…only to be completely helpless to man who's probably never subjected himself to a _quarter_ of what she has. Even with this knife in her hand and two men who loaded guns, the fact that he would kill her before she was able to lift her arm not only horrified her but pissed her off, most of all.

"FIVE!" Majid jabs the barrel into Emily's temple. Both their bodies tremble against each other: hers with fear, his with rage.

"Let her go and you can have me." Romero raises a hand. Losey and Emily's eyes both snap to him as he tried to pitch his proposal. He saw the improvised plan play out perfectly in his head. He would convince Majid that he wouldn't be creating much of a message by killing a weak girl. He'd place the gun on the floor to put his defenses down and insist the switch. Once he gets into his head and accepts the switch, he'd probably push Emily in their direction while aiming his pistol at them. He'd hug Emily, secretly pulling the knife out of her hand, and then make his way towards Majid. And there is the advantage. He's taller, stronger, and quicker and before anything else could happen, he'll swiftly grab his arm and break it with a powerful snap so he'll drop his weapon. From there, he is at their mercy. _Which is none._

"We don't need any more bloodshed. Let her go and you can keep me. She's weak, what are-"

"FOUR!" Majid cocks the gun. Romero clenches his jaw tightly as his face fell. That Mission Impossible action-like sequence that he thought he could get with was erased with just a sound. They were truly screwed. Nothing can stop this.

"THREE! TWO!"

"GO!" Emily urges with a muffled beg. She breathes shakily against Majid's palm as her wide eyes darted from Romero and Losey to the door. Her whole body shook with tears now flooding down her pale face. The cold sweats and numbness she was experiencing was so surreal that she felt she was about to push her soul out of her body. She watched this man shoot Burkett without a second thought just to prove a point and she knew he would have no problem killing again.

"GO! PLEASE!"

Losey starts backing up towards the door, pulling the back of Romero's shirt who refused to move. "Come on." he muttered regrettably. There was nothing they could do and if they continued to stand there, they were going to witness the death that will permanently imprint in their minds forever. Losey tugs on Romero once more, drawing him towards the door.

"Volveremos por ti." Romero tells Emily, through his quivering lips as he stepped backwards. The only solace he had was to communicate to her in a way that Majid couldn't understand. He repeats it once more with emphasis before Emily faintly nodded her head.

 _We'll come back for you._

Losey pulls Romero's arm and they both skip out of the room to head out to possibly hijack a truck if it's still there. The air in the den stood still as they listened to the fast, retreating footsteps being replaced by their breathing and the thumping of Emily's heart.

 _God, plea-_

Majid withdraws the gun from Emily's head, took a chunk of her hair, and yanked back with such force, she thought he ripped out her hair. She sprawled backward from the jerk and fell on her back onto the hard floor. The clatter of the knife drops right next to her and there was her only defense revealed in the open. They both lurch, Emily throwing her hand out to grab it first when he points it at him, ready to kill. Majid stands motionless, almost amused as he watches Emily rush to her feet. Without giving him time to draw his gun again, Emily lunges at him, aiming straight for his face instead of wasting time hoping the blade penetrates through his clothes. She hurls her hand at him, only for him to bob out of the way within milliseconds and strike her in the face with a thrust of his elbow.

Romero and Losey race towards the outside with Losey leading when they bust through a door. The darkness of the night surrounds them as their sights dart around for any kind of getaway. The cool November breeze against Romero's face stuns him for a second. He hasn't been exposed to the outside in so long that he forgot what nature's air felt like.

"Over there!" Losey points a few yards out to a truck parked off to the side. Their feet slams against the dirt as they sprint in its direction while keeping their eyes peeled for any other people.

"You drive!" Losey calls out to Romero as they approached the vehicle. They both run up their respected sides and pull on the doors, finding relief to see that they were locked with the engine still running. Romero tossed his weapon onto Losey jumping in the passenger seat and immediately threw his hand on the gear to drive. He forced his foot on the pedal and sped off like a bat out of hell where they now start their next mission of getting back to the base.

"Fuck!" Romero shouts as he smacks the steering wheel in frustration. "Shit!"

...

After days of driving with no particular direction, stopping by nearby local communities and begging for help, Losey and Romero were taken care of by the kindness of complete strangers who could have easily took advantage of their vulnerability. It wasn't until day six when they were led right to the very military installation that they were seeking. However, when Losey and Romero advanced towards the security, they were instantly mistaken for brazen enemies because of their clothing and lack of recognition from others guarding. It wasn't until they identified themselves as fellow rangers that were kidnapped from their post when they were believed and taken straight to the Lieutenant General.

Inside their private meeting, the Lieutenant General sat beside the base's Command Sergent Major, and they listened to the horrific story of how they were ambushed, taken to a secluded location where they've been beaten and starved every day for information they had no clue about despite others saying they did. The explanation about the deaths and ultimately their escape was described, along with the fact that one of their own is still alive and was forced to be left behind.

"We did everything we could, sir, but we had no other choice. The cards were already dealt." Losey sadly informs his superiors with a heavy heart.

Romero pushes with more urgency, demanding without outright being disrespectful. "She's still there and we have to send out _everyone_ on this base to rescue her. Who knows what they're doing to her while we sit here. It's already been almost a week! If he was smart, they would leave that area so we have to move quickly, sir!"

"I might not remember the coordinates or exact directions but I took mental snapshots of landmarks that we can use-"

"Who is this he?" The General buts in while Losey spoke. He folds his hands on top of his table and looked in between the two soldiers. "The one you assume directing all this? Did you get a name?"

Romero and Losey look at each other, unknowing. They hardly remember because they never knew it until Emily mentioned it a couple times.

"It…It started with an M?" Losey tries his best to recall.

"Are you asking me?" the General questions his punctuation. The unsureness wasn't going to help them with anything seeing there are thousands of people that could have done it.

"M…M…it sounded like an English word. Like…Magic?"

"Majid!" Romero abruptly yells out with a clap, startling everyone in the room. "His name is Majid. That's all we know but his name is Majid."

The General nods his head, stewing on that piece of information quietly for a few seconds before he stood up from his seat behind his desk. "Thank you, gentlemen, for everything. It is by a miracle that you made it out alive and were able to tell us this. I want you two to go back to your rooms and rest. Wash up, eat as much as you please from the chow hall, and relax."

"I'm sorry, sir, but there is no such thing as _relaxing_ when one of our own still in the enemies grasp." Romero politely corrects the General as he slowly walked around to the front of the table, leaning his body against it. The Command Sergent Major sits silently on the side of the wall, digesting every brutal detail that the men went through for two weeks and their vicious facial bruises to prove it. He personally knew Losey prior to his disappearance and hardly recognized him now. His strong face now sagged and was as pale as his fingernails, not to mention he speaks a lot more slowly than he remembered.

"And we fully understand that, Sergent Romero. That's why you need to allow us to take over from here." the older man places his folded hands in front of him as he sat halfway on his desk. "Not by any circumstances are you allowed to discuss what you've revealed to us. Everyone is going to question what happened. Your responses will be short and generic. Any real information of any kind can jeopardize our entire operation. That means no details about anything to anyone. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." Romero and Losey nod their heads, affirming in unison. They were dismissed shortly after and both men in charge wait until the door was closed behind the soldiers, leaving them alone.

"Holy fuck…" The Command Sergant Major breathes out as he swipes his hand on the top of his buzz cut. "We're waddling in fucking shit creek right now."

The General pushes himself off his table and walks back towards behind his desk, this time to the window on his wall. He stares out at all his men doing various jobs for the day.

"We have to play our cards right with this one." The Command Sergent Major continues on. "We've been sitting for weeks. We got our men out there searching the sands all day and the families back at home don't even know about this despite protocol."

"This is what they want. They want to lure us. They want to get our attention." The General replied calmly without moving, still in front of the window.

"Well, they certainly got it. Lance, we gotta do something."

"How does the sound of federal prison sound to you, Jeff?" The General turns around, locking eyes with his right hand man who had quieted down. "Or what about the headline: U.S. Military Caught in Taliban Scandal: Deal Gone Wrong. There is no way in hell we can go public with this let alone anyone outside this room having knowledge of what's going on."

"What about Losey and Romero?"

"We gag them. Pay them whatever amount reasonable and then they're out of the way. Besides, death isn't hard to call with this one. With those thugs, Fields is probably already dead along with Wyler and Burkett."

"Jesus Christ." Jeff leans back in his chair, placing both his hands on his forehead with a sigh. Knowing what has been told to them, it wouldn't be far-fetched if they did end up killing her. Especially since two escaped.

"They should have never allowed women into combat." Lance looks down at the floor briefly, as if giving a moment of silence before glancing back up at the Major. "This has to be done exactly right. We cannot afford to slip up with this one. _We have to cover our ass_."

 _2 Weeks Later…_

 _Ding Dong!_

 _Knock! Knock! Knock!_

Pam looks towards the front door as she swallow her hand-made fruit juice. She places her glass down on the kitchen counter and makes her way towards the entrance. Hopefully it's the UPS guy finally coming to deliver the cookbook she brought on Amazon earlier this month. She's ordered it some time ago and it still hasn't arrived.

 _I think I'm going to leave Amazon a nicely, written out, one star review for this nonsense. How long does it take to ship out a book to Texas?_

Pam opens the door to two black and white older men, dressed in Class A military uniforms.

"Hello, Ma'am. I am Captain Adam-"

Pam slams the door on the man before he had the chance to acknowledge himself. Her chest caves as she leans her back against it. The dread in the pit of her stomach was so grand that she felt like she was going to throw up everything that's in her system.

"Go away! You're not wanted here!" Pam screams through the door, the words hitching in her throat as the air was sucked out of her. Her eyes began to water as she kept screaming for the men to leave.

"Pam, What's going on?!" Wayne rushes down this stars, nearly jumping down the steps when he hears Pam distressed yell. He sees her pressed against the front door, clutching onto her pastel blouse for dear life. If he had the right mind, he would have grabbed his gun because his wife just came across some kind of attacker.

"Who was it?" he approaches Pam concerned as she almost started hyperventilating.

"Tell…Tell them to leave, Wayne!" she begs of him, grabbing a hold of his black shirt. "Tell them to leave!"

"Them?" Wayne looks up at the door with a raised brow. He pulls Pam behind her and grips onto the knob, turning it to open his door to the two uniformed men.

A shiver ripples through his body.

"Can I help you?" he stands tall and asserts himself with a firm and strong voice.

"Yes, good afternoon, sir. My name is Captain Adam Perry from 4th Battalion at Fort Hood. This is Chaplin Clark." The officer introduced themselves. "Are you Mr. and Mrs. Fields, parents of Lieutenant Emily Fields?"

Pam audibly winces at just the mention of her name.

"Yes, I am. And this is my wife. How can we be of assistance to you, gentlemen?"

"I have an important message to deliver from the Secretary of the Army…May we come in?" The uniformed black Captain asks gently. Wayne stares at him with narrowed eyes while Pam clutches onto his arm as she tries to steady her breathing. He moves to the side with an approving head nod.

"Yes, you may."

The men thank him for the invitation and walk past the threshold, waiting for Wayne to close the door and walk them to an appropriate area to talk. Pam stays behind Wayne, fully guarded around these men with terror in her heart. She wanted them to leave not enter and ruin her home. They walk to their living room where Wayne sits Pam down onto the couch. He stands beside her but she tugs on his hand, staring up at him, wanting him to sit down next to her. She was barely keeping it together. The lid she had on was jittering, wanting for any kind of pressure to fly right off. The Captain and the Chaplin watch them sit next to each other when the Chaplin's eyes catches a large portrait of Emily smiling in a cap and gown hung up on their painted wall. There was no easy way to relay this.

"The Secretary of the Army has asked me to express his deep regret that your daughter, Lieutenant Emily Fields-"

"NO!" Pam jumps up, pointing a finger at the officer as the oxygen from her lungs gets trapped in her throat. "DON'T YOU DARE SAY HER NAME! GET OUT!"

"Your daughter-"

"I SAID GET OUT!"

"Lieutenant Emily Fields has been reported presumably dead, killed in action on November 10th, by Bagram Air Base in Afghanistan. Her truck had hit a roadside bom-"

Unable to get him to stop his sentence, Pam let's out a blood-curdling shriek, throwing her hands up into the air. All Wayne could do is stare at the men while Pam wailed at the top volume. He didn't process not a damn word they just said.

"What? What- I didn't hear….what?"

"Sir…I'm so sorry but your daughter Emily-"

"OH MY GOOOOOD!" Pam screeches out. She throws herself onto the floor on her knees, screaming. "MY BABY! THAT'S MY ONLY BABY, GOD, PLEASE NO!"

"What the fuck happened!" Wayne demanded the information. He hears Pam crying, he sees military officers in his house, but he still isn't processing what is going on.

The Captain solemnly nods his head. "At this time her body is missing-"

"WHAT?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN MISSING?!"

"OH MY GOD!"

"There is an ongoing investigation. Once the investigation is complete, you will have full access to the report. A causality assistance officer will contact you in four hours with more details. Is there a neighbor, or a friend, or a family that can come and help you in your trying time?"

"Do you know who the hell I am, Captain?!" Wayne raises to his feet with his voice roaring. The men's' eyes glanced up at him standing and did their best to stay calm. They were obviously dealing with two kinds of reactors: Grieving and hostility. Their job was to relay the information and then leave but it's always the relaying part that was the most difficult.

"Yes, sir."

"I am Lieutenant Colonel Wayne Fields! That means I am _your_ superior! This is my fucking daughter you are talking about! MY ONLY DAUGHTER! So, you _will_ explain to me what happened to MY DAUGHTER!" Wayne shakes with wrath as he went from level-headed to irate.

"THEY KILLED MY BABY, OH GOD!" Pam gasps crawling on the floor. She held onto Wayne's leg as she felt the room spinning out of control. "THEY TOOK MY BABY GIRL! PLEASE, GOD, DON'T DO THIS! DON'T DO THIS!"

...

Walking through a crowded mall, the ringtone of a phone rings inside of a tan and purple Coach handbag.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Hanna. This is Toby."

"Hey, Toby!" Hanna beams in surprise as she clicks her heels down the polished floor, in search of another shop. " _Wow_ , long time with you. How are things?"

"Pretty much the same." Toby answers simply. The lack of pep in his voice was something Hanna didn't take notice of right away. "Where are you?"

"Right now I'm doing what I like to call "Shopping Research" with Caleb. Say hi." Hanna pulls the phone away and shoves it into Caleb's ear as they walked.

"Hey, Toby."

"Hi, Caleb." Toby takes a deep breath as he hears Hanna back on the phone, in her own little bubble.

"He doesn't believe it's a real thing but it totally is."

"Do you have anywhere to sit?"

"Sit? No, why?"

"Because I think you should for this one."

Hanna rolls her eyes as she approaches the window of a store. She crouches over to look at the mannequins and their outfits, observing every article of clothing before she walks into the establishment. "Oh, stop with the dramatics. What happened? Are you going to be a father or something, Tobs? Which, honestly, wouldn't be surprising. I always figured you'd be the first to hatch an egg. Well, not _you_ of course but you know."

"Hanna, you need to sit." Toby reiterates strongly this time. This causes Hanna to stop everything with curiosity now as she slowly approaches a sales rack.

"No, I'm not going to sit, spit it out!"

Toby closed his eyes and silence sat between them for a long five seconds. "…Emily is dead."

Hanna's ears perked up and this wave of surrealism washed over her entire body like a hot-cold electric shock. Her hands became weak instantly at a snap and she was ready to drop her phone but she needed clarification. Surely, she didn't heard what she thought she heard. Surely.

"What did you say to me?" Hanna's voice hushed to a barely audible murmur that caught Caleb's attention. He turned from his phone and looked at Hanna staring off into the distance with wide eyes and her face drained of color.

"Emily died, Han. They told her parents and her dad told me today."

All Hanna could see is Emily's face. The glowing smile attached to her as she splashed water at her at the pool, flashing to the image of Emily cold and emotionless in a casket. She wanted to run but she couldn't move. She wanted to scream but she could talk. She wanted to cry but she couldn't breathe.

"Hanna?" Caleb gently called out to her. He watches her drop her phone, smashing screen first onto the floor before her hand started shaking uncontrollably. Caleb goes to reach for her but she staggers off to the side, tripping in her heels and falling onto a nearby wall shelf, bringing everything down with her with a loud clash.

"Hanna!"

 **R.I.P. Emily Fields….according to the US Army.**

 **So many things in this chapter to digest that it might just take a second round to fully grip everything.**

 **We are at a point where all kind of things are involved and lives have been sacrificed. This leaves us with what the hell is going to happen with Emily now?**

 **Thank you guys for your overwhelming sense of support. Honestly, I say this all the time but I sincerely mean it. It's only been one chspter and already, you all pour me with love. I write every single day for you guys. On those days when you're dying for an update that it drives you mad, just know I am writing. With my stories, I see them as a piano compositions, if you will. It's art. But it also takes time to perfectly craft with just the right emotions needed to bring the art alive. As easy as it seems, anyone can write. But to be able to write well, is the true challenge. Everything I create, I feel. I must or else I can't write it. Whether its love or anger, I have to feel it within myself in order to bring it to life and for you, the reader, to feel it too.**

 **It's like acting, almost. An actor has an emotional scene to do and they do it. They put their heart deep into their performance. Then, the director says cut and the actor come back to Earth. The director says take two and the actor goes again, putting all their emotions and feeling into this scene. Director yells cut and they have another break. Take three comes and the actor repeats the scene, putting** ** _everything_** **into it, just as they have the first two takes. After a while of repeatedly doing that emotional scene, they are drained and have to take an actual rest. That's how I feel writing sometimes. Especially in this particular update, I had to project myself into these situations so I can somewhat accurately describe how one may feel. So it'll come out naturally. That takes time and while I'm not making excuses, I just wanted to show you guys a glimpse of what it's like to bring you my stories.**

 **This wait brought you 18k words. Even if the wait seems unbearable, just know, I will always come through.**

 **Leave a review on how you're feeling about everything, possible theories for the future, or just vent whatever is on your mind. There is no such thing as a long review.**

 **Part 3, the ending, coming soon…**


	4. Prologue III – Georgia, 2012

**I truly apologize for writing such long chapters. I tell myself I would quit but my sobriety only lasts for a couple of days before I'm back at square one.**

 **Happy belated birthday, anonymous guest. Sorry that I'm a few days late. Take this as my peace offering.**

Prologue III – Georgia, 2012

 _Italics means thoughts, emphasized word or action._ **Bolded is a flashback or reading.** (….) is an indication that time has passed.

Your daughter is dead.

Four words that can destroy a parent's life. Words a parent would never be able to swallow.

His daughter, his only child, his little girl died overseas, fighting for her country. A girl who just started life, a girl who was just experiencing the world. _Taken_. Whether fatally shot, exploded, drowned, or was stranded by herself, the pain doesn't throb any less. The moment when her life was flashing before her eyes and all she could think about is home and how she was going to die alone in another country without her family would haunt any parent. Especially a parent who has served many tours overseas and made it back unscathed whereas their child only left once and died.

How can you bury your child?

Flying back where it all started, everyone arrives in Rosewood, Pennsylvania for the funeral via Emily's wishes according to the paperwork she filed in an event she didn't make it back. She wanted to be remembered back home. Pam, Paige, and Hanna wear different variations of black funeral attire: Pam in a long, black pea coat, covering her knee-high black dress, stockings, and heels. She wore sunglasses, gloves, and a large church hat that shielded most of her face that she spent all of the morning crying behind.

Paige walks behind her in a V-neck button blouse under a petite black blazer and skinny slacks. She found the hardest time walking in her boots towards the burial site yet the only saving grace she had was to walk with Toby. All she could hear is Emily's voice in her ear. The repetition of her words, saying that she was going to come home. How she promised. Remembering the last conversation she had with her on the phone and how Emily couldn't stop laughing at her describing how bad her day went. She would give anything to hear her laugh again, she would give anything to _see_ her again. They had a promise.

Hanna followed after in her long sleeved black dress that fell right over her gold heels with a slit up the side. Her hair was put up in a braided, low bun and her sunglasses perched on top. She walked, leaning against Caleb due to the previous times of her legs giving out randomly and he having to catch her. He's never seen his girlfriend so tormented before and he tried to do his all to be there for her.

As the women dressed to their specifics, Toby and Wayne wear their Class A uniforms; Toby in navy blue police attire, Wayne in black and gold for the Army. They stand tall and strong for the women although Pam had an arm wrapped around Wayne's side, supporting him as he walked with a cane. Just hours after their initial news, the realization of Emily's death hit him so viciously that he had a stroke and was rushed to the hospital. With all his prior medical complications, doctors didn't think he was going to make it.

And he didn't want to.

He kept flat-lining on the doctors and they had to shock him back to life every time he tried to check out. He failed his duty as a father and felt he didn't deserve to live.

With the memorial being public, only family and close friends were able to attend the burial. Swarms of news reporters, photographers, and grieving strangers, however, watched on from the streets at a distance. Celebrations were praised when news of Emily and another young woman made U.S. history and it made a name for her. The days of the announcement of Special Forces being deployed to war, it wasn't officially public but people knew Emily could be flying out to continue her legacy. But it all came crashing down once the media had a whiff of her tragic demise. People from all over the country were pouring in their support for Wayne, Pam, and Paige, especially. The paparazzi snap pictures of the funeral scene and all Hanna could do is grumble to herself. The one time she would _hate_ pictures being taken of her is the day people would treat one of the worst moments of her life like it was New York Fashion Week.

The ceremony begins as the first row was reserved for Emily's parents, Paige, Hanna, Toby, and Caleb as they listened to the pastor speak. For a good decent amount of time, everyone was quiet except for the occasional sniffling. The zombie-like appearance from everyone in the front row now wearing sunglasses, except Wayne and Toby, set an eerie stillness in the air.

 _Emily was really dead…and they didn't even have a damn body to have closure._

…..

The service concludes with Pam tightly hugging the folded flag given to her as everyone lingers around and talks for a moment, giving their condolences to the family and girlfriend most importantly. The funeral-goers then hop inside their vehicles and drive over to the Field's home - the place where Emily grew up and they can remember her for the wake.

Food and drinks where served as a light mumble floated around the 1st floor from the kitchen to the backyard. Family members from every side came together for the painful event and tried to make it a commemoration of her life and accomplishments. Paige sits quietly on the couch with her head bowed as Emily's grandmother held her hand. This is the third time they've met and all Wayne's mother wanted to do is wrap her in her arms. They have all taken a loss and while she might be the girlfriend, she was still seen as family.

 **Paige turns around to see a red Chevrolet Cruze pull up into her driveway behind Emily's car. Pam and Wayne had called her a few days prior to let her know they were coming over to see her and she couldn't be any happier. Since Emily left, the house has been very cold and lonely without her presence and as of right now, she could happily use some company. She shuts off the hose she was using to water the plants in the front yard now that it's starting to get colder. Pam gets out of the driver's seat first, bracing a smile that held nothing but sadness in the eyes.**

" **Pam! How are you?" Paige walks up to her with a large grin and open arms, squeezing the smaller woman in a tight hug. Wayne stares straight ahead at the back of Emily's car as he gripped his hands together. He was about to relive hell all over again and wasn't sure if he could do it. They decided it would be better if they told Paige in person rather than over the phone. It is no doubt that she's going to need the support and he vowed to Emily that they would watch over her.**

" **You look good, Paige. You look good." Pam compliments her, staring everywhere but her face. She couldn't bear the idea of small talk knowing that she had a nuke in her back pocket that's going to destroy Paige's whole world. The plan was to sit Paige down and ease her into the news but Pam doesn't know if she can wait that long anymore.**

 **Wayne opens the passenger door and Pam turns to rush to his aid. Paige walks behind, still holding onto her smile as she approaches one of her favorite people.**

" **Hi, Wayne!" Paige's glow of a beam fades quickly when she sees Pam help him out of the car with a cane used for supporting. "Oh my goodness, are you okay?! What happened!"**

 **Wayne hangs his head as he drapes his arm over the top of the car door. The stinging of tears already redden Pam's face as she watches her husband falter in strength. Paige stands there confused as to why everyone became silent and sorrowful all of a sudden. She shoves her hands into the pockets of her grey button up,** **sweater** **cardigan as she waited for someone to speak. The atmosphere suddenly felt so off and it made her feel uneasy.**

 **Wayne pushes out a long exhale before he raises his head to lock eyes with Paige.**

" **Stop." Paige pulls her hands out and warns him with a wave as she started backing up. Pam opens her mouth to speak but no words come out and that only heightened Paige's alertness. "Please, don't say anything. Please….don't."**

" **Paige, hunny-" Pam reaches for her but she avoids her touch.**

" **No. Nonono. Don't."**

" **We had to come this way." Wayne pushes himself off the door and starts limping towards her. "We couldn't tell you on the phone. We had to be here."**

" **NO!" Paige angrily screams at them with her eyes full of rage and tears. A few birds sitting on the branches of the tree beside her house fly off into the sky while nearby kids playing in the street stop and stare at the unexpected noise.**

 **Paige runs her hands through her freshly rinsed dark brown hair as she looked around. She felt like baseball stadium lights where shined onto her and it was blinding and nauseating. She takes off in the direction of her front door before she trips over her feet and falls in the middle of her yard, scuffing her hands with dirt and ripping a hole into her jeans. Pam hurries to her side to help when Paige begins dry-heaving. She wanted to throw up the information they were not outright saying but nothing was coming out. She clutches the grass within her grasp as her body tightens while nearby neighbors who were watching started making their way towards the house to make sure everything was okay.**

 **As Paige began her panic attack, a concerned civilian walked up to Wayne to ask what happened and that's when he had to explain the unfortunate news. The shock didn't stay with just Paige, the surrounding bystanders gasped in surprise hearing that Emily had died.**

 **Everyone in that particular street knew Emily. She and Paige were one for throwing neighbor friendly get-togethers especially when the weather was nice and hot. During the summer of 2010, they and a few friends planned a party for the NBA finals. While Paige wasn't a huge fan of basketball, Emily liked it and, that entire summer, was the only thing she was talking about with her co-workers. It started with a private barbeque but once word came out that someone was hosting a playoff party, the private sessions soon turned into an open house with people cooking and bringing beer galore. From wearing jerseys to kids and adults alike playing games in the street, everyone enjoyed themselves before it was time to pile up in the living room and begin yelling at the TV. This lasted for days and it was one of their favorite memories. That's when everyone knew exactly who Emily Fields was.**

 **People did their best to comfort Paige but her head was in such a dark place that she saw everyone as the enemy and started shouting, demanding people to get away from her. Pam cling onto her body with all her might and walked her into the house as Paige continued to scream at the world.**

Pam walks up to Wayne with a glass of cold orange juice as he stood in the back of the living room watching everything take place. He thanks her and takes a sip as he rested his weight against his cane. He felt his toes beginning to fall asleep again.

"You know…there is something that happened that Emily didn't want me to tell you about before she left."

Pam jerks her head up at her husband mixed with multiple emotions from his sentence. She watches him take another swallow of his juice before he nodded in the direction of the couch.

"When we were at their house, while you and Paige cooked, Emily was telling about some things that were on her mind."

"What? Like what?" Pam rushed him to get to the point. She really had no energy for suspense or pulling teeth but the sudden reveal of a conversation not only intrigued her but scared her at the same time. "What did she say?"

Wayne glances down at Pam. "She was going to propose when she came back." he enlightens her with a muttered voice. Pam's mouth dropped upon hearing. Although this idea wasn't far-fetched because she knew after six years, someone was bound to pop the question but the fact that Emily didn't tell her, at least, shocked her.

"Do….do we tell her? I mean, what do we do? Does she know?"

"I doubt it but it's not really our place to do anything. We don't know if Em had any plans already set if this happened. I just needed to tell you because…." Wayne stares at his mother talking to Paige, rubbing the girl's shoulder while she spoke. He bit down on his tongue before he raised the rim of his glass back up to his mouth. "I needed to tell you."

Pam wasn't sure if any other news could make her heart ache but the way it sunk hearing about the proposal, absolutely did the job. She, too, looked over in Paige's direction with a heavy heart. Ever since she's seen her, she's been very still. Very quiet. She knows people mourn in various ways but it was almost as if she was sedated.

"With no body, what's the point of doing a burial? All you did was waste $2,000 just to throw dirt on top of it. This is bullshit." Hanna grumbled to herself before she took a swig from her Snapple bottle. While to the average person it would appear that she was drinking Snapple, however, Hanna laced her drink with strong amounts of alcohol and soon Caleb had realized it too.

"Here, gimme that." Caleb extents his hand to grab the bottle but Hanna yanks it from his reach.

"I'm at my fucking best friend's funeral, okay? Today is _not_ the day to be the drink police." she snaps at him with no care about who was around or could hear. "I don't tell you how to cope so don't _fucking_ do it to me. I don't know who the hell you think you are but I'm going to tell you who you're not."

Caleb somberly apologizes, prompting Hanna to murmur something else to herself. She numbed this entire morning with alcohol, drinking the hour she woke up so she could get through the day. And as the liquor heated up her blood, her opinion became more and more audible. She felt like the burial portion was a sham and irrelevant to everything. Emily's body was somewhere in the desert and here they were crying over an empty casket.

…

Multiple footsteps walk in unison down a hard cemented floor. The stillness amplified these simple noises and created the illusion that there were a whole group of people migrating to one area. Soon after, the steps were replaced by the jiggling of keys, followed by the creaking of a door being opened.

Dirty, old, damaged concrete floor.

Cracked and peeling, stained walls full of moss and mold and missing ceiling plaster.

A used and abused twin mattress on the floor with a thin blanket riddled with holes.

The only source of light into the room was through a window facing the hallway on the door. However, it wasn't real glass so if you tried to break it, all you would be doing is tiring yourself.

Emily sits on top of the bed with her legs crossed, tucked into her, staring off into the distance as Majid and two other men step inside. Ever since Romero and Losey's escape, Emily has been holding onto Romero's last words to her.

 _Volveremos por ti._

After they left, Emily got the beating of a lifetime until another truck arrived to send them running out of their current place. They knew somehow the guys were going to make it back to the base and send the whole military to where they were and they needed a new location. A few men took off in search of Romero and Losey, promising to kill them on sight if they found them.

 _We'll come back for you._

Emily was tied, gagged, and thrown in the backseat of a van with a gun pointed at her at all times so she couldn't think of any ideas. When brought to her new captive spot, all she could do is pray that they somehow found her. Every day, she would pray for her rescue.

Days became weeks.

Weeks became months.

Taken hostage on November 10th with Romero and Losey escaping on the 22th, it was now February 4th and she was still under Majid's thumb.

Three months later and nobody has ever came back for her.

Three men stand by the door as Majid stood in front of Emily, waiting for her to acknowledge him. The girl he first met was lean, physically fit, tanned, and overall healthy. The girl he stood in front of now was gaunt. The golden color of her skin faded to grey, her body turned on itself due to lack of food and thinned out. Her limbs were gangly and her face unnatural, at this point. Her eyes were sunken with no life, the color of the iris diminished to dull brown as the rest of her face caved in. Dark bags settled into her skin while the bones of her cheeks started to poke out. The fast thinking skill of hers slowed down, movement was sluggish, and system was weakened from to the deficiency of consistent food, water, and physical abuse. Given to her, the ratted shirt and pants given to her hung on her body like clothes on a hanger and her hair lost its glow long ago.

The talk about Emily's presence were the topic of several conversations between Majid and his men. From the idea of selling her to outright killing her and moving on, people wanted to know for how long they were planning on keeping her and, ultimately, what is the end goal. Some even wanted to have their way with her but Majid put a stop to such idea, feeling that raping Emily wouldn't have the same effect as it would with others. It was pointless. Nevertheless, he did know the military was planning something against them and as long as they had her, he would have them by the balls.

So he believed.

Emily continues to stare at the wall as Majid waited for some kind of reaction that never came. He crouches down to her level, face to face with her so that he is in her line of sight.

"My men tell me you've been awfully quiet today. For the past few days, actually. Why is that? What is going on in that little brain of yours, ah?"

Not even a hair follicle swayed on Emily's head when Majid spoke to her. She was completely motionless. One would have thought someone poured cement on top of her and turned her into a statue because there was nothing there. She didn't even blink.

"Are you bored? Don't really have anything to do in here?" he presses on, mockingly. " _Well_ ….if you're bored….maybe you should just fuck yourself. Help you relieve stress, you know? _Take some edge off_."

Emily's distant eyes gradually focus onto Majid in front of her with his wicked smirk of a smile.

"I'm going to fuck myself over your dead body, how would you like that?" An unrecognizable voice responds to him. People would describe Emily's voice as smooth, firm when needed but overall pleasant to listen to. This one was harsh, gravely, and sinister.

Majid pouts with raised eyebrows, surprised at this response from someone who was practically begging him for mercy all the time. "Really? And how would that happen?"

Emily's eyes don't leave his as she pierced into the deepest parts of his soul. It was slightly unnerving seeing how close they were but he brushed it off with sarcastic banter.

"Tell me because now I'm fairly curious about this. How would you do that?"

Emily's eyes narrowed in, staying silent for a few long seconds before she spoke.

"I'm going to kill you." Majid smiles with laughter but her face stayed completely grim delivering her warnings. "I'm going to kill all of you." her eyes slide up towards the three men behind Majid, standing by the door.

"I'm going to kill _you_ , I'm going to kill _you_ , I'm going to kill _you_ , you fat son of a bitch. _I'm going to kill you all._ Especially the other one with the burned hand, I'm going to butcher him. _All of you._ It's going to be a slaughter house when I do it."

"You're going to slaughter us?" Majid taunts with his face in a frown. This is the first time Emily has ever threaten them to this extent. She's tried to kill them but never has she outright proclaim her hatred. This was new temperament to them and an interesting one at that.

"I'm going to murder you in front of each other just like you did to me. _So_ , you better kill me because if you don't, it's only a countdown to your deaths." Emily looks over at man on the far right with the red turban, locking him in. "And you, _goat-fucker_ , if you ever touch me again, I'm going to sever your head clean. Rip it off your neck and use it as a hacky sack for my entertainment."

"Why are you so _violent_ today, Fields? It's not even 2pm. Where is your _humanity_?"

"God left me a long time ago." Emily responds with her eyes never leaving the guard. "He forgot about me. My soul is useless so now so, I have no restrictions when I say I'm going slice his repulsive face off over there and wear it like a fucking batman mask while I kill you…" she shifts back to Majid who looked at her with curiosity. "Slowly and painfully. You're going to wish for immediate death but it will not come to you….because I'm going to torture you first."

Majid's smile fades as he held a glare-down with Emily. He glances her up and down before he snaps at his men. "I think you're a bit hungry. Let's get something into your system, yeah?"

One of the men, move forward with a baggie and a glass jar in his hands. He passes it to Majid who then starts removing things while Emily keeps her eyes on the male with the red turban. She gazes at him with no emotion in her face but everything behind her eyes. He stood still in his spot but felt tremendously uncomfortable. He's never been threatened or intimidated by Emily before and would not hesitate to put her in her place….but the way she stared at him, he couldn't explain the feeling he was experiencing.

She did not take her eyes off him.

"You like sunflower seeds?" Majid asks her as he shook the little baggie into his palm. Out came these tan seeds that looked faintly like pumpkin seeds but smaller and darker. He filled his hand and then took the jar filled with some kind of liquid and propped it in front of her.

"It might not be a full course meal but this is what's on your menu today. Some seeds and something to drink." the liquid sloshed inside the jar as he shook it. "It's some tea, freshly brewed. This is all that we could make so, try to make yourself feel at home."

Majid looks at her some more, seeing how she wouldn't even look his way but it wasn't bothering him anymore. He drops the seeds back into the baggie and places it along with the drink on the floor at Emily's feet. Finished with his time, he stands up and goes to leave while one of the other men kick a rusty bucket full of water bottles to the side. Without anything else, they leave and secure the door behind them to lock Emily back in her space. She waits until she hears their footsteps retreat and completely disappear before she lets out a heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry that you had to see me in that way. These people just…" the words get caught in her throat and she bows her head, feeling drained and a notion of embarrassment. "I'm sorry that you had to hear that. I'll try to have some filter next time because I know how you feel about violence."

Emily glances over her shoulder to see dirty stuffed rabbit in the corner. It was pastel purple with one eye button and a hole torn in the stomach. It was flimsy and dirty and has been there ever since Emily arrived. She nods her head, understanding her actions as she bit the inside of her cheek.

"I know. I'm sorry."

She turns forward and looks at the bag and drink in front of her. It's been a few days since the last time she had something to eat. A lousy sealed bag of crackers that looked like it came from a "Meal Ready to Eat" box. Four crackers to be exactly. They were one of those crackers where you take one bite, it thickens in your mouth as you chew and feel the everlasting need of water to wash it down. Except Emily had no water. She looks in the baggie and sees all the seeds bunched up – had to be about 100 altogether.

Without second thought, Emily lefts the baggie in her mouth and dumps all the seeds inside for maximum consumption. She knew it was smarter to save them but her hunger was so extreme, the idea of letting them sit for an additional ten seconds without being touch was unfathomable.

She chews loudly, letting out a breath of relief to be eating something when theytaste hit her. She slows down the mastication and tightens her face. The seeds tasted like burning marshmallows mixed with gasoline with every bite. It took her a second to understand the flavor when she grabbed the glass jar, spun off the lid, and took a large gulp of the tea.

" _UCK!_ " Emily nearly gags as the liquid went down her throat. She squints down at the jar and observed this so called tea. It was the most wildly bitter tea she's ever had in her life. If she wasn't blinded by thirst she would have checked it out a bit more than to have the tradition notion of what tea was supposed to taste like and anticipate that instead. Feeling she's had enough, she screws the lid back on and tosses the things to the side. At least they gave her some more water.

Emily scoots back a bit until her back was against the wall, sighing again.

 _Silence…_

"For the first time in a while, I actually had a pleasant dream. First time in a long time." Emily speaks aloud, tilting her head to look at the stuffed rabbit leaning in the corner.

"I was at this pool site. I want to say it was a community pool but it was inside and _huge._ Like Olympic size but it just kept going. Like….like imagine an ocean….in a building. The water and walls just keep going to no end. It was beautiful. Colors I haven't seen in a long time….I can still smell everything as if I was there. Floating in the water, just staring. Then I feel this splash next to me. Like one of those cannonball splashes. I turn to look and it was a kid about eight with one of those snorkels and goggles. He was giggling with this big smile and I can see where he lost a few of his teeth so he had these gaps. I didn't know who he belonged to or where he came from but I looked at him. _Really looked at him._ " she sucks in her bottom lip and turns her face forward, staring at the floor while her nose started to burn.

" _He was my son_. I knew it – I felt it inside me. Nobody had to tell me, I just….. _felt_." a hot, uncontainable tear rolls down Emily's face. She didn't know why she suddenly felt so emotional retelling her dream but it was something that overwhelmed her. The feeling was so real that it felt like real life. It was the child she's always wanted, interacting with her in her dream.

"It was a bit odd because I was bigger than him and my feet wasn't touching the floor." she wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. "We were just floating upright as if there was no gravity. I remember picking up him up and he was so beautiful. _So_ beautiful. How the sun shined on his skin, I swear he was sparkling. I remember putting him on my back and just started swimming. Swimming nowhere in particular. Then, I dipped under the surface and started swimming under the water. It was so clear. And I didn't have to worry about breathing because it wasn't an issue. He later hopped off my back and I took off his snorkels and goggles and there was that smile again. He smiled and just swam off. It was like he wanted me to chase after him. So there we were, swimming at this rapid speed, passing fishes, dolphins, sharks, with no worry."

Emily leans her head against the wall and gazed off into space. She lost her current self and slipped into her dream world – Something that became more and more of a habit of hers. In her dream, she was healthy. Glowing, in fact. She was a slightly younger version of herself but somehow older. Everything in that dream was magical and untouched by man's destructive hands. Ever since the accident, Emily has had the unfortunate (or maybe fortunate) pleasure of not seeing a mirror or anything that can show her present state. Yet, she looks at her body and that's all the reflection she needs. She has lost so much weight in the past few months that just one sneeze would give her multiple aches and pains. She didn't need to see herself to know that she probably looked like a monster from a child's nightmare.

"But I won't have any kids…..My generation, my family name, my lineage ends here. With me." Emily sinks back to her reality like a crash from a nice high. "My blood won't run anywhere else. Within a decade or so, the "Fields" will become a name in the growing list of forgotten people because I will die in here."

Emily's attention moves to the rabbit for a few seconds before she rolled her eyes with a scoff. "You know it's true." she states matter-of-factly.

"The military taught me how to use a gun, fundamental hand-to-hand combat, how to be stealthy and basic survival tips. But the military is no secret service that creates Jackie Chans with guns – they teach you the basics of everything with a little dash of advanced knowledge of body limits and techniques. What they didn't teach me how to survive when my body starts eating itself. They didn't teach me how to stop yourself from going insane because of the lack of human contact, something that we, as humans, need to survive. They didn't teach me how withstand capturers who have no regard for anything and are fully in control of your life. _No_."

Emily shakes her head, disgustedly.

"That's why Shawn was killed unexpectedly. That's why Matthew couldn't handle the stress and killed himself. That's why Isaac was scared to death and showed his colors way too quickly. Military is a "kick-ass" idea where the toughest Americans are fighting 24/7 when in actuality, they sign anyone that walks into their office. _Ready or not._ And let me tell you something, lots of people who sign up only do it for job security and because they know the military will pay for their education. They're not thinking about combat. Most people sent to war are scared with no real clue of what they're doing. And for those who can run for a longer time, do more than the typical amount of fitness, have a skill set that is above average, they slap the title 'elite' on you. While you may be considered "dangerous" or "a secret weapon", you're not….. That's why Shawn was killed, Matthew killed himself, and Isaac was scared and showed his colors way too quickly."

Emily glances down at her chest. She touches her dog tag that was tucked inside of her shirt as she looks at her wrist. After all this time, she still had Wyler's black and white wristband.

 _Keep quiet no longer. Act or accept._

She clears her throat, followed by a lick of her lips. Her mouth felt awfully dry and just reminded her of the water she had received earlier. Granted, it's never the water how one would like – cold and quenching. They were purposely very warm or sometimes hot so they wouldn't be enjoyable. Nevertheless, when you're thirsty, you'd drink anything. Emily moves herself forward to walk over to the bucket when she felt this gradual, heavy sensation throughout her body. She pushed through it and stood up when the heavy feeling increased, making her stumble to the side.

It felt like she had been spinning around in a circle and now is trying to walk straight. This sensation similar to being drunk, accompanied with her body feeling heavy, automatically told Emily something was off. There has been times when she's been so tired, so hungry, so thirsty, that she didn't have energy or could hardly stand without feeling faint, but this moment felt different. She finally stumbles her way towards the bucket and grabs the expected warm bottle of water before she took a large swallow and threw herself onto her mattress.

….

 _180 bpm._

Emily removes her trembling fingers from her neck and throws her hand down beside her. Her heart was racing at a high speed that she shouldn't be experiencing while staying perfectly still. She tried to focus on a stain on the ceiling but every few seconds, it would begin sliding, moving somewhere else. Her vision was unsteady and blurring right in front of her eyes, gaining some kind of dreamy, painting-like edge to it. The sense of detachment was strong, but it didn't feel strange.

"Oh my God…did they drug me?" Emily lethargically slurs out even with the push of effort to speak correctly.

"I dunno. Did they?"

Emily's neck snaps to the direction of the abrupt voice. Her eyes dart around the room and she sees no one. The dread wave of anxiousness spills down Emily's body. She heard that voice clear as day, as if someone was right next to her.

"Who said that?" she asks the air around her as she uses all her strength to stand up. She was completely alone but she knows she heard a voice. It's only been about 10 minutes since she got her water and laid down and now she's starting to hear things.

But that was within her mind that it's only been 10 minutes. In actuality, it's been five hours since she's moved. From the outside looking in, all she's been doing is mumbling mindlessly to herself and sleeping when she's thought to have been daydreaming for a handful of minutes.

See, Majid has put Emily on a schedule she's obviously been unaware of. This routine was designed to weaken her and have no choice but to rely on him for survival. She might have damned him to hell, but she's still living purely by him, whether she liked it or not. So, by starving her, by the time he gives her the seeds and tea, he knows she'll eat and drink it like it was her first cooked meal. And she did. Now, what she's experiencing is what people call a "trip".

Those seeds were actually hallucinogens and the tea were more seeds of the plant, crushed, and placed into boiling water.

 _Hell's Bells._

 _Devil's Trumpet._

 _Jimson Weed._

 _Datura._

Emily's eyes drifted to the toy rabbit and, to her surprise, it was blue. She intently stared at it now confused. It's always been light purple but now it's randomly blue? Deep blue? As she continued to observe it, the toy began growing in size, going from a small children's stuffed animal, to the dimension of a full size teddy bear that you win at carnivals.

"What the hell…" Emily watched, nearly paralyzed as the rabbit began levitating. It starting floating towards Emily's direction, steadily changing colors like a glow-

 _Knock. Knock. Knock._

Emily turns to the door being cautiously opened as if someone was secretly checking in. A few seconds later, Romero's head pops through.

" _Ooooh shit_ …" Emily rolls onto her side as she attempts to stand but her limbs were striking against her at the moment. "Ooooh _shit_. You came back."

Romero walks inside the room, still wearing the same clothes Emily last saw him wearing. Almost surprised, he looks down at her, confused. "Woah. What the hell happened to you?"

"I was left behind with these bitches, that's what the hell happened." Emily staggers in his direction to the point she almost fell against him. She grabs a hold of his shirt and tries her hardest to speak clearly now that her incoherent mumbling is getting out of control. "Where is Erik? We gotta go…we gotta go before we get caught."

"You need a smoke?" Romero asks, however, it seemed more like a definitive statement than a question. Through her incredibly dry mouth, the sudden urge to smoke overwhelmed her. Although she's tried in the past, Emily was never one for smoking nor has she done it recently. But the need for nicotine derailed her current thoughts on leaving and made her agree although she wanted to say no.

A common trait of Datura.

" _Yeah_ …" she compellingly decides. Romero digs into his pants pocket and passes Emily a blue lighter as he pulls out an already lit cigarette. As if her body was moving without her control, her hand reaches up to her right ear where a brand new cigarette was tucked. She grabs it in-between her two fingers and flicks the lighter to light but the flame kept going out. Her frustration arises with every failure and she felt herself becoming irritated that she couldn't get the lighter to work.

"We gotta get out of here, Isaac. We gotta go now." she finally sparks a flame and burns the end of the cigarette before putting it in her mouth and glancing up. Romero, who once stood in front of her, vanished into thin air and she was alone again.

"Isaac? Isaac?" she calls out for him as if there was a place he could hide in such a small room. The slight twinge of panic seeped into her as she turned around, hoping her rescue was there.

"Isa….Wha….What?"

The once empty room that Emily was subjected to for months was filled with everyone she's ever known in her life. Friends, peers from college and high school, and all kinds of people she hasn't seen in years.

"What's up, Em? It's been a while!" a young guy smiles at her, giving her a high five.

"Jeremy..." Emily returns the light smile as he rubs her shoulders, eventually walking past her to talk to another person at this 'party'.

 _As happy as he seemed, Jeremy has been dead for the past 10 years._

Though, it didn't seem off to Emily. As far as she knew, this was 100% real. Even though logic would state obviously otherwise, at no point did Emily think she was tripping. Everything was her reality. Romero really did come to rescue her as he promised, it's just that she lost him in this sea of people that he invited with him. Emily continues smoking her cigarette, ultimately finding herself in a circle of past friends. She stands with them and chats for a minute with small talk, completely oblivious to the fact that she's been held hostage in the middle of the desert. One of them ask for a smoke and in reflex, Emily reaches up to her ear and pulls another unlit cigarette. How was her ear suddenly a reloading pack?

"Oh yeah, turn that up! I love that song!" a voice amid the crowd calls out. A few seconds later, music is cranked from a black iPod music player that was on the floor against a wall.

The 70's disco tune adds the feel-good ambience as the nearly group of 50 people start side-stepping and singing at the same time, making it look like a true party.

" _To behold, to your soul is ecstasy. You will find - other kind - that has been in search of you. Many lives have brought you to – recognize, it's your life, now in review._ "

Everyone's singing voices mesh into an angelic harmony as if they were a choir and it immediately put Emily at ease. All her worries, her doubts, her fear had subdued at that second and she felt like she was floating among soft clouds, high in the bright and vibrant sky. Being a lover of old school music, Wayne's Earth, Wind & Fire's "Fantasy" record was something he used to play often when she was younger and it just brought her to a world far from her own.

 _A world of fantasy._

A small tap against Emily's back makes her turn around and out of everything abnormal, this sight actually surprised her.

"Hey."

Emily pulls the cigarette out of her mouth. "Maya? Hi-hey. Hey."

An older Maya stands before Emily and she's stunned, to say the least. She hasn't seen her since senior year of high school back in 2005. Before Paige, Emily history with Maya was pretty solid. She is the one she thanks for bringing her to the light of understanding her true self during her times of confusion and doubt as a teen. They had dated for three years during high school and Emily thought they were set for a future as high school sweethearts. Unfortunately, when senior year came, they realized that they wouldn't be able to follow each other as they hoped. With Emily getting scholarships for swimming and wanting to go towards California, Maya was being pulled in another direction for school in another state. They stayed together until after graduation where they went their separate ways with no animosity or bad blood between them. She's seen her on Facebook a couple times during their college years but Paige wasn't so keen on exes on social media.

"I'm so sorry…"

"Sorry about what?"

"Sometimes, I wish that things could have been better for us." Maya tilts her head, her long, black hair cascading over her shoulder as she gazes at Emily with mournful eyes. "We were just sent too far apart…"

Emily gives a sad yet appreciative closed lipped smile, tossing her cigarette on the floor and putting it out with her foot. "You know, that's kind of funny to me. How I went to California and you Georgia. Then, years later, I would move to Columbus while you're in Atlanta. Just two hours away from each other."

"Maybe it was fate." Maya challenges, causing Emily to look up at her. They both stood quiet for a moment before Emily shook her head. She needed a way out of this conversation fast before Paige walks in and starts speculating with accusations. She pulls another cigarette from her ear and lights it.

"But I hope you're doing well. You look good."

"…I hope your soul is at rest, Emily. No matter what happened, I still love you and will never forget you."

Emily cocked her head as her smoke rested at the corner of her mouth. "Huh?"

Maya takes one more glance at her before she turned around and began walking away. Emily reaches out for her arm, needing clarification of what she meant, when the second she touched her, Maya's whole arm turned into sand and fell to the ground.

"What the fuck?"

Within that next instant, everyone around Emily disintegrated and became mounds of sand on the floor. The cigarette and lighter she held in her possession vanished as well as the music that was once playing. The bright and happy room faded back into the dark and cold cell. She was alone again.

"NOOOOOO!"

The piercing shriek shakes Emily, making her spin around to locate the sound. Her eyes have a hard time focusing on what she was seeing. The purple toy rabbit was holding its face, sobbing loudly behind its plush paws. Her forehead creases with her brows furrowed as she watched in disbelief. The rabbit looked like an animation in real life like how cartoons were depicted in Who Framed Roger Rabbit or Space Jam.

"My baby! I can't leave my baby!"

Emily gasps. Even away from civilization for so long, that voice was undeniable. She ran up to the rabbit, not knowing where to put her hands or how to even touch it as they continued crying.

"God, please! _Please!_ Why burden me with such a heavy weight like this?! Why take Emily from me?!"

"Mom! I'm right here!" Emily urgently calls out to the voice in a panic. The rabbit slumps into the corner, sitting with head bowed and long ears covering its wet eyes. Their little chest caves in and out with their heavy breathing as Emily's eyes wildly search its body.

"Mom! Mommy! I'm here!"

The room door swings open and Emily's head jerks towards its direction. Two of Majid's men appear and, without thinking, she jumps to her feet and runs up to them.

"Where is Isaac?! What did you to do him?!"

One of the men steps with a thrust of his hands and tosses the contents from a bucket he held at her. Emily instantly drops to the floor, ducking out of the way from the sudden action. Hearing soft patter hitting the floor, Emily wonders what she avoided. She didn't hear a splash so she knows it wasn't water or some kind of liquid. She turns to look over her shoulder when her eyes bulge in horror. From roaches to spiders and everything in between, hundreds of insects scurry across the floor next to her. Emily let's out a distraught scream as her vision morphs these tiny bugs into large insects, gradually multiplying by the second. She runs towards the guards in distress when they push her back into the room with a hard shove, forcing her to stumble back and crush a few beetles under her heel. Emily starts hyperventilating, picking up her feet in high knee strides as she skips over to a small corner of the room where no bugs crawled.

"PLEASE! HELP ME!" She presses her back against the wall while standing on the tips of her toes. The floor seemed to move as it was covered in all things brown and fast. If there was one thing Emily hated the most, it would be bugs of any kind. That fear is what drives her to keep everything clean, especially during the hot days back at home. All it would take is for her to see one creepy crawler and she would think about it the whole day. Even if she killed it, she wouldn't be able to lay down without feeling that crawling sensation on her skin. Now she was surrounded by them and she felt like she was going to burst out of her hot skin.

"I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY - I WON'T THREATEN YOU AGAIN! PLEASE!"

The man with the bucket scoffs and walks back out into the hallway while the one in the red turban goes to close the door.

"DON'T LEAVE ME, PLEASE!" Emily begs with her knees shaking under her. The guard pauses for a second and then pushes open the door, now walking in. The sick sounds of insects being crunched under his boots makes Emily's stomach churn as he makes his way inside the room. A temporary sense of relief washes over her before he turns to the other corner of the room towards the toy and picks it up.

"No…" Emily's stomach drops as watches the guard head to the door with the now normal rabbit in his grasp. "Nononono! Don't take her, please! SHE'S ALL I HAVE! NO! LEAVE HER!"

Emily's whole body trembles with the ability to do absolutely nothing. She hopelessly screams with all the power in her throat while the door closes behind the men with a loud slam. As they walked away, they shut off the hallway lights that were the only source of illumination Emily had, making the entire room dark, leaving her with her cries.

…

From the moment we're born and able to communicate, we are taught right from wrong. We are given boundaries and standards and they become our morals of life. But what makes us turn away from our morals? When faced with adversity, what makes us keep them? Where does that moment lie when we no longer recognize ourselves? When is that change?

 _But God is faithful; He will not suffer you to be tempted beyond that which ye are able to bear, but with the temptation will also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it._ First Corinthians, verse 10, line 13.

I remember that line clear in my mind, hearing my father recite it to me whenever I came to him overwhelmed. Isaac repeated it as well.

 _He says he doesn't give us more than we can carry. If he brings us to it, it'll bring us through it._

Days I spent in the cold, huddling in the corner because the pain in my stomach became crippling to my body.

Days I spent crying.

Days I spent screaming.

Screaming at him.

They said you cannot question the Great One but the dryness of my throat, the burning of my eyes, the numbness of my feet couldn't bear the thought of not having any answers. If he's watching over me, why is he watching me starve? Why is he watching me being dragged down wet floors when I'm too weak to fight back? Why is he watching me be beaten by these men who receive joy from hearing me collapse and struggle to breathe?

Where is that faithfulness to me?

In the darkness of the void, a head is bowed, hand extended while the other one is held behind him. It's the morning star – Lucifer.

He wants a dance.

The songs being played becomes a ballad. A love song. While his hand is tightly gripped around my waist with the other tangled in mine, he whispers promises in my ear.

What makes us turn away from our morals? When faced with adversity, what makes us keep them? Where does that moment lie when we no longer recognize ourselves? When is that change?

When do we snap?

Jingles of keys sound behind the door before it's opened. Two different men from two days ago enter but Emily doesn't look up to see their faces. She keeps her head lowered as she sits on top of her mattress with her chin rested on her knees. The ground covered full of insects laid still next to her as she quietly muttered to herself; the hell she went through in the dark with one of her fears showed on her face. However, looking in, you would see the hell was only in her head. The bugs around her were plastics, dumped into a bucket, and tossed at her. While she screamed, begging for help, all the men could do is laugh at her because she was holding herself up in a corner, eye darting wildly across the floor at fake bugs. Only her hallucinations created them as real. Coming down from her trip, her vision has yet came back to normal. Her pupils were still dilated and sight was blurred as parts of her body would randomly tremble uncontrollably.

"Get up." one of them demand through his harsh accent. Emily doesn't budge a muscle but continues to mumble lowly. The guard's non-existent patience grows thin within seconds and he stomps his way towards her.

"I said get up."

It was as if Emily was ignoring his whole presence by the time he crouched down to her level to glare at her.

" _As you glide, in your stride, with the wind as you fly away. Give a smile from your lips and say-_ "

"Get…up."

Emily's left hand slides over her mason jar that sat right beside her as she keeps her eyes at the floor. _"-I am free. Yes, I'm free, now I'm on my way…_ "

"I say get up!" The guard stuns a hard smack across her face, making her eyes fly open in action.

"DON'T YOU TOUCH ME!" With a defying yell, Emily grips the largest broken piece of the mason glass and swiftly slices the guard's throat. While left by herself in the darkness, Emily stumbled her way to her bed when she accidentally knocked over the jar, glass and tea spilling everywhere. As she came back to her senses, it was then she knew that was her chance. This was her way out.

The guard reaches for his neck in agony while Emily drops the glass that was cutting into her palm and lunges for the gun secured around the man's waist. Before he could react by moving out the way, Emily shoots him twice at point blank range, jerking backwards with every blow because of how weak she is to resist the kickback. She blinks several times to try to clarify her vision but she still couldn't focus with everything shifting in blurs.

Another man rushes into the room, cocking his gun to fire when Emily shoots a few rounds at him as well. She misses every attempt, hitting the wall and door as the guard ducks himself from her aim when she finally catches him in the chest. She keeps pulling the trigger, making him stagger back with the bullets piercing through his torso when he slumps against the wall, dead.

The gun begins clicking with no ammo when Emily realizes she used up everything to kill these two guards. With no obstacles left and a wide open door, she scrambles to her feet and starts running. She has no idea where to go or how to get out but she keeps her feet moving, hoping that an opportunity will present itself to her. Speeding through hallway she goes, she sees a flight of stairs doing downwards and she wastes no time taking them. A part of her told her that she should be smarter and sneak but the last time that happened, it didn't go well in her favor.

The blurs became worse with the quick and sudden movements as her feet flies down the steps, holding onto the railing for support.

When she jumps the finally step and hits the lower floor, she races down another hall when a foot extended itself before her, causing Emily to tumble and skid across the hard floor. Another man who was answering to the sound of gun shots saw Emily running down the stairs at a high speed and decided to simply trip her, knowing that it'll for sure slow her down. Emily tries to get up when she's met by a rigid boot kicking her right upside her face.

Like a TV being turned off, all she saw was darkness.

She rolls over, holding her face from a throbbing pain that has never healed since the first time she's gotten beaten. The guard doesn't let up after one hit when he decides to give Emily a piece of his mind.

Every punch, every kick hurt. But after a few seconds of feeling everything, it dulled out to the point she felt…nothing.

The overbearing sense of diminishing hope rocked her harder than any strike she'd ever receive. At that moment, Emily knew it the countdown has already started as she began to get tired and felt the urge to let go.

 _I tried…_

 _I really tried…_

 _My parents are going to die when they find out. My dad first, then my mom a step after…_

 _I'm never going to see Paige again…_

 _I'm never going to get married…_

 _I'm never going to have kids…_

 _This is it…He's really going to kill me…_

 _I'm so sorry, God…_

 _I tried so much to hold on…I don't want to die…_

 _Please, forgive me…_

 _Please, forgive me._

… _._

"Musíme jít."

"Dej mi vteřinku."

"Ona je pravděpodobně už mrtvý, pojďme!"

"Cítím se slabý puls.…"

"Cezar!"

"Pomoz mi zvednout!"

"Vy jste kurva vážně? Nepřišli jsme sem zachránit slečnu v nesnázích1"

"Drž hubu a pomoz mi! Vím, co mám kurva dělat!"

...

"Životně důležité orgány jsou dobré, všechno je v pořádku."

"Mějte na paměti, že máme další kolo čištění asi za hodinu. "

"Ano, lékař."

The muffled voices come to her as if it was being filtered. She felt groggy, tired, and not sure of what was happening. The language being spoken was foreign but different from the ones she was used to hearing. There was a consistent beeping that kept going off but she couldn't tell what it was.

 _Where am I...? Is this the afterlife...? Am...Am I in heaven?_

Her eyes flicker open weakly after a few attempts of her rolling back shut before she is met with total darkness.

"Víš, mohl bych opravdu jít za dvoulůžkový čokoládové muffin, právě teď."

The voices around her started to clear up gradually as she heard moans and chuckling. She tried to make sense of everything but her mind was so hazy and muddled, she couldn't quite hold onto a simple thought. More laughter is sounded besides her and now Emily's anxiety started to rise. She couldn't recall her last memory and now hearing even more people with foreign accents without the ability to see was scaring her for possibly what's to come.

Emily tries to lift her arms but it seemingly took a lot of willpower to do so. A small groan escaped her mouth as she unsteadily raises her hand to her face.

"Woah, tam je pohyb."

"Probudila se dřív, než se očekávalo."

A hand is placed on Emily's arm and like a switch, Emily was kicked into defense mode. She gathered up all her energy to swat at the hand while she tried to jump up. However, the moment she jerked in sudden movement, voices started getting louder and one hand turned to eight hands.

Emily started using everything she had but the people around her were stronger and kept pressing her into the plush object underneath her. Her groans turn into panting as she now hears the once constant beeping sound getting faster and faster.

 _Where the hell am I?!_

"Emily! I need you to calm down." A stern yet calming male voice speaks to her. That was the first time in months that she's heard anyone call her by her first name. The men she was with only referred her to her last because that's the only name they knew. But this man, who seemed to have an American accent, called her Emily.

She halts in her reistance, now trying to catch her breath.

"Release her, she is no threat." the voice commands and within that same instant, the abundance of hands that held her down were removed from her body. "Everyone leave. Dim the lights while you go. Katrina…please bring back a bowl."

As this unknown man directed whoever was around her, Emily couldn't help but think to herself. Did the military finally find her? Was she rescued? Why couldn't she see anything? She rushes her hands to her face to remove whatever was shielding her eyes when the man urged her to wait. With the lack of following rules she's been portraying for so long, something about this man made her listen. She didn't know if it was the reassurance in his voice or the fact that he didn't sound like "them" but she followed his orders. It wasn't until she heard a closing of a door when the man told her she was able to take off her blindfold.

Without hesitation, Emily yanks the blindfold off her eyes and to her surprise everything was dark and had a faint haze to it. An older man dressed dapper in a tailored suit stood before her with what could be made out to be a smile. She glanced down at herself and saw she was dressed in a gown with all kinds of things on her that were hooked up to machines nearby. It seemed to be that she was in some kind of hospital room.

"Your eyes will be sore for a little while, that's why I had the lights lowered."

Emily clears her throat as she adjusts herself in her bed, blinking a few times to get rid of the cloudiness. "Who are you?"

"I am behind the team that rescued you." the man placed his hands inside his pants pockets with the small smile still light on his face.

Emily almost took that answer until shook her head, making the correlation of two plus two not equaling five. "You're not the military…you all were speaking another language."

The man holds his composure, staring at Emily for a few seconds before he walked towards her side of the bed. Emily's defenses jumped with him getting close to her and he felt it. He raises his hands up in sincerity.

"I'm going to gradually sit you up with this button. Will you be okay with that?"

Emily keeps her eyes on him before she gives a silent nod of approval. As told, he presses a button on the side of the bed that raises the upper part so she went from laying down to sitting upright. When the man walks off to the side to grab a chair, Emily took a notice of her surroundings. The room she was in did not look like the typical hospital room one would be used to. With the dim lights, she can still see how advanced it was, resembling more of a luxury showroom than anything else. The floor was a spotless, marble white with a matching white ceiling and soft tan, designed walls. All the ceiling lights were circular, LED fixtures and the furniture were grey and white to compliment the rest of the room's color choice. The man rolled up a seat next to Emily, gaining her attention again.

"Your name is Emily Fields. You are member of the elite 75th ranger regiment who are currently doing a tour in Afghanistan with Special Operations. You and four others were attacked and then kidnapped by a group of rebels where, as time went by, you were the only person left in their grasp."

While the information he gave her was not mind-blowing, Emily still was surprised that he knew such things about her. That is, until she reached up for her neck with her other hand, touching the dog tag that she still wore.

 _That's probably why._

There is a knock on the door before it opened, entering a young woman in red scrubs with the curved sides and neckline of the top being black. Her feathered, shoulder length, black hair shook as she walked towards them with a small, saran-wrapped bowl. Upon making eye contact with Emily, she smiled at her.

"Good afternoon, Emily. I'm glad to see that you're awake." she welcomed her with a sweet voice that held a small trace of an accent. Although she couldn't pinpoint exactly where the accent is from, all Emily could do is stare at her as the girl handed the bowl to the man. He inspects it as the supposed nurse takes a glimpse at Emily again. Emily's eyes never leaves hers as they held onto each other's gazes for a few moments.

"Thank you, Katrina." the man nodded, gaining a nod back from her. She gives one more glance at Emily with almost a shy smile before she turns and walks to the door and out of the room.

It's been so long since Emily has seen another woman, let alone a person other than her capturers, she couldn't help but stare. It was as if her brain was processing information that she hadn't been used to in a while. Her ears pick up the sound of unwrapping when she turned back to the man with the bowl in his hands.

"For you." He raises the bowl to Emily's eye level. "Fresh fruits."

Emily's mouth instantly begins to water like a starving dog. Slices of watermelon, bananas, strawberries, pears, mangoes, kiwis, fruits she's only seen in her dreams was right in front of her. Instead of questioning it as one should, she grabs the bowl and picks out a juicy, plump pineapple square and tosses it into her mouth with such quickness. With just one chew, her eyes rolled back as she tasted the sweet juices on her tongue. The flavor of the freshness was so intense that she felt like she was seconds from crying. The man smiled happily, watching her eat after knowing it's probably been a while since she's had something so pleasant.

"The condition we found you in was horrific, to say the least." he continues on explaining. "Several broken bones and major bruising that crippled some of your abilities. You were dehydrated and starved to the point parts of your body was on their way of shutting down. If we didn't get to you when we did, you would have died from internal bleeding. As of right now, you've been in a coma for a little over a week."

After picking another fruit, her vision starts clearing up and she is really able to get a detailed look of who was talking to her. The salt and pepper combed back hair and beard he had told Emily that the man before her had to be over 40 years old. His light green eyes were inviting but there was some kind of authoritative energy about him. She peeps over to the rest of the room once more. There was some kind of monitor on the wall in front of them. It was a rounded rectangle that had a visual 3d model of CAT scan, highlighting different parts of the face with red, yellow, and orange colors.

Was that supposed to be her?

"We performed multiple surgeries on you such as fixing your broken nose and assessing to your eye." he leans over to the small dresser beside the bed and opened one of the drawers, reaching for a mirror he then handed to Emily. "It appeared that sometime before we came, you have received a near fatal attack. Your attacker caused blunt trauma to your eyes which was something we had to get to quickly."

Taking ahold of the personal mirror, Emily gasps at the sight of what she saw. While her face was still somewhat swollen and bandaged, her eyes were drastically different from how she's always had them. Her right eye was still dark brown whereas her left was grey with a splash of light brown mixed on the side.

"The iris of the eye is like a blanket with loose pigmentation scattered along its back side, which is very dark, and then along its front side, which is lighter. The trauma you received was so _brunt,_ it dispersed the pigment you had, making your eye alter in color. With this sudden diffuse of melanin, it turned the impacted eye grey while still having your true color of brown splashed within. Those areas are the parts that didn't get to fade. They still hold your original pigmentation."

The man points to the monitor on the wall with a clicker, showing a close up photographed still of her eyes during the vitrectomy surgery, also known as removing blood from behind the eyes.

"Although your real eye color is dark brown, the trauma lessened the deep pigmentation along with completely discarding it everywhere else. We call this partial heterochromia. Luckily your vision was spared in the process."

Emily's eyes were glued to the monitor as she slowly chewed on her watermelon. She couldn't believe what she was hearing or seeing. She was unrecognizable from her reflection and her eyes on the screen didn't even look like hers. If her hatred for Majid wasn't on a dangerously high level, it certainly was now.

"If you do not like it, we can schedule a correction surgery to change the color to match your other eye. It won't happen right away, though. You still need to heal." the man informs her, seeing the stunned look on her face.

Emily shakes her head, trying to understand everything from the injuries to the food to her current location and to this mysterious man himself. She takes a handful of small fruits, popping them in her mouth before she spoke, not caring about etiquette. "Where am I? Who are you? What…" she chews a few more times before she swallows. "What is going on?"

The man twists his mouth to the side and grabs a hold of Emily's hand as he looks into her eyes. She reflectively flinched back by the sudden sympathetic gesture but then relaxed back into herself, seeing she wasn't in any danger. Hopefully.

"The information I'm going to brief you on is going to sound unbelievable but I need you to know that my words are true."

Emily slowly nods.

"…You are dead."

"Dead?" Emily nearly chokes out in shock.

"Yes. Emily Fields is dead. The military called your death late of last year."

"Wh-wha….what's today?"

"Today is Thursday, February 16th, 2012."

Emily's eyes drop down to the fruit bowl she held, nearly speechless. She's always wondered what the military was going to do with her still being out there. With Romero and Losey leading the way, she was certain they were not going to give up the hunt. Her heart suddenly jumps.

 _Oh my God, they pronounced me dead. They told everyone I died._

"But…the news around your death wasn't as innocent as seems."

A sudden eyebrow is raised on Emily's behalf, not liking the chill she just got. "What do you mean not as innocent?"

"Let's just say you had loyalty to the force….but they didn't have loyalty to you. At the end of the day, their only best interest is their own and always has been."

With the ambiguous riddle to match the ambiguous man, Emily is left dumbfounded at what he was trying to relay to her. She opened her mouth to give her response but was only sputtering out noises for the lack of words coming to her.

"This has come as a shock to you, I am aware, but this could be a blessing in disguise."

Emily's face jerks up at the man, baffled at how he could even out together such words. Her death has come as a blessing? To who?!

"How many people wish to start their lives anew? Just leave everything in the past and start again? With you being dead to the world, you have this opportunity to have another redo at life. To be whoever you want."

"And do what? I would have absolutely _nothing_."

"Oh contraire, little one." the man tightens his grasp on Emily's warm hand, holding it snug within his own as he smiles at her. "We will take care of you. We will nurse you back to health and make you _stronger_ than you've ever been before."

"Wait…." Emily stops him before he could make his sales pitch. "What happened to the men inside that compound? Majid and his people."

"We raided that place. Killed most of them."

"You killed Majid?"

"Unfortunately not. He was one of the few that got away."

As odd as it might sound, as a part of Emily was frustrated that Majid wasn't dead, an even larger part of her was satisfied with the thought of him being alive. She made a promise and she would want nothing more than to carry it out personally.

"But Emily, this is a golden opportunity that has been presented to you." he reminds her with a hint of persuasion and urgency for an answer. "Nevertheless, it is merely an option. You can stay here and live a new life without worrying about all the regrets and burdens from before or…you can go back home."

"I'm sorry, I…I can't leave my family behind." Emily shoots down the offer, knowing this would be the obvious answer whether she was declared dead or not. "I have a girlfriend that I love and had plans to propose. I can't just walk away from that. I have to go home."

"Yes…..I completely understand." he gives her a soft smile but Emily can tell he was probably disappointed for some reason. He rises to his feet, letting go of Emily's hand and fixes his suit. "We will keep you just for a while longer before we discharge you. Now that you're awake, we can run some tests and get you moving during physical therapy to make sure your up to a least somewhat normal. I'm going to bring the doctor back inside so he can explain in-depth everything to you."

Emily silently eats as she watches the man push the roller chair back to its original place before making his way to the door. Halfway in that direction, he stops with his back facing her.

"But….the offer will still stand after you leave. _Seven days._ If you go back and life isn't the way you wished it to be and need more details of things you thought you knew, you can call us and we will take care of you, just as I promised. You won't have to pay a dime. Just come as you are. You'll be still allowed to keep in contact with your folks but your way of living will be different. For the better. But after those days are up, we will be gone. Indefinitely."

"Why me? Why are you willing to do this? What's the hidden print here?" Emily just couldn't understand what the sudden want for her was. She was a normal American civilian, called to do a duty and then was kidnapped for months. Some random people, who she still has no idea who anyone is other than a girl named Katrina, raided the location she was in and rescued her. Now she's God knows where, in a hospital bed with all kinds of healing injuries, eating a fruit salad with two different eye colors from a beating that almost killed her, and an odd man trying to put her in some kind of witness protection program.

 _What the hell is going on?_

The man turned his head, looking over his shoulder at Emily who sat confused with a mouth full of strawberries. "There is no hidden print, Emily. One man's trash is simply another man's diamonds. The military didn't see your worth. We do."

With the cryptic, vague answer that puzzled Emily for the second time even more than before, the man walks to the door, leaving her alone for about ten seconds before a younger man walked in with black scrubs.

"Welcome, Emily! Glad to see you awake and eating. I'm Dr. Graham."

…

As the man had said, Emily was kept within the establishment for a couple days and was pampered the entire time. She was fed the most delicious food for breakfast, lunch, and dinner as well as working with the nurses to get her back on her feet. When she wasn't drugged up on pain meds, she was very apprehensive most of the time being around other people. Everything seemed too good to be true and she was waiting for the rug to be pulled from underneath her – To be held captive with another set of people or for this to be some dream that she has yet to wake up from. She's had a few violent outbursts from different situations putting her on fight or flight mode but the people handled her well instead of smacking her like she's been used to.

On the day of her discharge, Emily was driven to another location a few miles away, leading to some kind of airfield. She was accompanied by the older man and a few other people when he gave his farewells. Before she was escorted on a private jet to fly her back to Georgia, she was given a business card and $300 in U.S. cash. The white card had nothing but a golden, shimmering number on it as the man reiterated the deal to her.

 _Seven days and then they're gone indefinitely._

The money was given just as a parting gift to get her from where she lands to her home since she had nothing but new yet simple clothes on her back and tennis shoes on her feet. He shakes her hand firmly one last time before she was walked up the stairs and onto the plane.

…..

Getting off the jet and driven to a public part of Columbus, Georgia, Emily was dropped off by a local shopping outlet mall before the car disappeared into the day traffic of the street.

 _That's when everything came rushing into her at sonic speed._

The noise of cars honking, people surrounding her, talking and laughing loudly, and the overall movement of the city during afternoon hours overwhelmed her senses. She felt like she was placed in a pot of boiling water and didn't know what to do. Something as simple as getting a taxi was a daunting task for her, putting her on the verge of having a mental breakdown. She limps herself towards the nearest open establishment, not caring what it is, and bursts through the entrance doors, gaining every person to gawk at her bizarre behavior. Her panting started becoming full blown hyperventilation as she stumbles herself to an open booth and tosses herself into the seat. Her shaky hands reach up to remove her sunglasses but decides halfway to keep them on and run her hands through her hair.

"….Welcome to Wendy's, ma'am, are you alright?" a teenage girl working at the fast food joint cautiously approaches Emily as everyone continues to stare at her, jumping to the conclusion that she's probably on drugs. Too occupied on trying to get herself together, Emily ignores the girl's greeting, turning her face away from her as she began to cry. The last thing she wanted to do is become emotional in public but she couldn't withstand everything around her.

It was too loud.

It was too crowded.

It was too bright.

She just wanted to go home.

The girl walks away from Emily as she scooted farther into the booth, closer to the wall. She tucks her face into her arm on top of the table to hide from everything.

" _You're okay, you're okay, you're okay, you're okay."_ she fretfully mumbles to herself. "You're free. You can go home. You just need to go home. Call Paige and she can pick you up. Call Paige…call Paige….what's….what's Paige's number?"

Emily starts bouncing her leg up and down as she hits a road block. She's always known Paige's number and has after all these years but suddenly, she couldn't string together the 10 digits.

"What's Paige's number? C'mon, Emily, you know this! What's Paige's number! 6….650….650-93….650-93…9?"

Emily hears the squishing of fabric in front of her and freezes. She gradually lifts her head, just enough for her eyes to see that a young girl in a uniform sitting in front of her with a cardboard holder and a small cup. Seeing the girl softly smiled reminded her of Katrina, polite yet seemingly shy.

"I thought you could use some water and a few fries."

Emily slowly sits up and looks her, not moving else more.

"I just wanted to know if you were okay. You seemed….upset about something. Is someone hurting you?"

Emily takes a deep breath, swallowing down hard. "I…I need a taxi back home."

"Okay." the girl understandably nods her head as she pulls out her phone from her back pocket. "I can call you an uber."

"Uber? No, I need a cab."

"Oh no, uber _is_ a cab. It's a cheaper driving service that can take you to where you-"

"I said I need a cab." Emily repeats with a stern and impatient voice. "Please."

The girl nods again, this time more cautiously as she stares at Emily through her sunglasses. "Cab it is. Whatever you'd like."

Still feeling bad for Emily and her current distressed state, she gives her the fries and small water on her purchase. She had just taken her break when Emily came in and found it in her heart that she had to help her. They wait about 15 minutes for a cab to arrive when Emily quietly thanks the girl and walks out to the car.

"Where to, miss?" the southern driver rests his arm on the passenger seat as he turns and looks at Emily in the backseat for directions. She opens her mouth to speak but is felt speechless once again. She couldn't remember Paige's number and now she couldn't recall her own address.

"I, uh….I live by the base…"

"You live at Fort Benning?"

"Nono. I live close to."

"Alright…do you have an address I can put in?"

Emily looks down at the red Nike tennis shoes on her feet, the ones given to her by those nameless people. "I don't know exactly…the address…"

The driver checks a good look at Emily. He didn't know whether she was high, lost, or dealing with some other personal issue but the teeth pulling wasn't the most exciting game to play. He can't drive if he doesn't have a location and the last thing he wants to do is drop her off somewhere else and something ends up happening to her.

"Is there a street you remember? A landmark? Maybe a Walmart nearby or somethin'? Maybe a Target? Hospital?"

"Publix." the hazy images start coming back to Emily.

"A Publix. Okay, there's three. You got one on Macon Road, one on Bradley Park, and one off Schomburg Road – which one is it?"

"Spring Ridge Court." Emily nearly blurts out, catching the driver off guard a little.

"I don't think there is a Publix on Spring Ridge. That's a residential area, sweetheart."

"I live on Spring Ridge Court." she states again, almost saying it in confirmation to herself. "I don't exactly remember the number but I live there."

"Good, good. That's something I can work with." he turns and resets the computer information in his cab before he drove off the sidewalk, merging into the street.

….

The driver took her to the neighborhood that Emily lived in and played, "Which House Is It?" as they slowly creeped by every house until Emily recognized her own. She felt her heart flutter just by seeing the front of her house, something she thought she'd never see again.

"Alright, that'll come out to $19.22." the driver points to the fare counter as he pulls up at the curb. Emily digs into her pocket, pulling out a hundred dollar bill.

"Do you have change for a hundred?"

The man glances over his shoulder to look at the money before he turns back towards where he stashed his change. "Uhmm…I should-"

"Whatever. Just take it." Emily hands him the bill as he stares at it, hesitant to accept.

"Are you sure, miss….?"

"Money has absolutely no value to me right now. Keep it." Emily insisted before he took it from her and she hopped out of the backseat. The driver thanks her greatly before he pulls out, leaving Emily standing by her front yard. Every memory she had started flooding back to her in massive waves as she walks up to her doorstep. Her car was still in the driveway but Paige's was missing. She had no plan on how she was going to arrive to Paige with her thinking she was dead but with her being out, this gave her some time to prepare.

She approaches her porch and looks around. The flowers that she and Paige worked on to make their yard look appealing had withered and died and it broke Emily's heart inside. She could only imagined how Paige coped with the news. She takes a few steps by one of the porch chairs that they had and pushes it to the side. In case of emergencies, Emily always had a spare key outside and by the look of things, nothing has really changed. Taking a deep breath, Emily puts the key inside the door lock and twists it open, unlocking the entrance to her home.

Walking inside the empty house, Emily's emotions skyrocketed. She closes the door behind her and stands silently, breathing in a deep inhale of the "home" scent that lingered. She takes in everything in front her before she falls to her knees. She's overcame so much in the past few months.

Being kidnapped.

Watching her friends brutally die in front of her.

Being beaten and starved every day.

Losing hope and giving up after holding on with all her might until the last second.

Now, she's finally _home._

She crawls a few feet before she is able to stand up again. She keeps all the joyful tears to herself as she walks down the hallway, towards the kitchen. Most things were just as she left it last year. She brushes her hand against the wall as she made her way to the living room. Everything was so quiet but…there were a few things missing…

Emily's body shakes out of surprise with a loud audible gasp as another gasp is heard with the scrambling of feet hitting the floor.

"Who the fuck are you?!" A brunette, seeming to be in her mid-twenties, jumps from the couch in an immediate fighting stance as she screams at Emily's presence.

For a split moment, Emily had thought she walked into the wrong house but that thought quickly left her when she stood her ground, gawking at this stranger in _her_ home.

"Who the fuck are _you_?!"

"What do you mean who the fuck am I? You're the one that broke into this house!"

"This is _my_ house!"

"Alright," the girl wags her finger at Emily, grabbing her phone with her eyes never leaving her. "I don't know what of narcotics you're on, bitch, but you have ten seconds to get off this property or else I'm calling the police on your crazy ass."

With no time for this unnecessary drama, Emily begins walking around, shaking her head, to find her house phone to put an end to this.

"Where's Paige?"

" _Paige?_ What the hell do you have to do with my girlfriend?"

"GIRLFRIEND?!" Emily nearly chokes as she spins around to face the girl so fast that she nearly slipped.

"I didn't fucking stutter!"

Emily stares at her with wild, wide eyes through her shades. Some chick who was a few inches shorter than her and looked about her age was telling _her_ that Paige was _her_ girlfriend in _her_ house.

That's what she was noticing as she was walking into the living room. The pictures of her and her and Paige were missing. The pictures they've had in the same spot since they've brought the house were moved.

"I'm the fucking owner of this goddamn house, _bitch!_ "

"That's impossible…" the girl stood slightly confused but mostly defensive. "Paige owns this house. The only person who lived here died last year."

"Do I look fucking dead to you?" Emily rips off her glasses, holding the girl in intense eye contact as her voice deepened with rage. The girl's defenses dropped within seconds upon seeing Emily's unshielded face.

 _It couldn't be._

The Emily she's seen in pictures was tanned, tall, fit, and had a glow to her as if she was a model – or at least could be. While she was still tall, this Emily was more of a creamy pale, gangly thin and looked sick, more than anything. With her face sunken in, she looked like a completely different person.

" _Oh my God._ " the girl lowers her voice, frozen in literal fear. "Uhm…Paige…Paige and I…I mean, there is nothing…" she tumbles under her words as she wrings her phone in her hands, nervously with Emily's glare starting to burn rays of heat onto her skin.

"Paige isn't really my girlfriend. I…I just said that to establish some kind of dominance because I didn't know who you were and you just walked in."

"How long?" Emily breathed harshly in question.

"W...We didn't-"

" _Girl_..." Emily drops her head in an attempt to calm herself though her blood was boiling hot enough to make her skin warm to the touch. "I have the strength of a silverback gorilla right now and will not hesitate to beat your fucking ass. Your mouth better start moving in the next two seconds before I CRACK IT IN HALF!"

"A month!" she quickly utters out as Emily menacing walked towards her, making her stumble backwards with a hand up. Right there Emily stops. Within her, she hoped that she was overreacting and this girl was honestly a nobody trying to "protect" the house but two words had lifted the seal of one of her biggest fears.

"It wasn't planned, I swear. It was just that I was helping her- being there during the dark times of your...your death and...it just happened."

" _What...just...happened_?"

"A kiss…"

Emily's eyes scan up and down the girl's body before it landed back at her face, narrowing them with a deadly sharp stare.

"And….a few other….things..." she confesses from the sudden spotlight Emily put her in. Being a ranger, she knows Emily is stronger than her, quicker than her, and most likely 100 times more lethal than she could ever be so she played it safe and aired out anything Emily asked of her. There was a chance she wasn't going to make it out the front door without Emily pouncing on her, leaving her best bet to tell the truth and pray for some kind of intervention.

"You did it here?" Emily points down with her voice now unsteady and whisper-like, almost if she was about to cry tears of anger. "In my home?"

"I'm so-"

"DID YOU?!"

"Yes."

Emily's hands begin trembling at her side as her wide eyes lock onto the random girl like a target. The girl glanced down and she saw Emily's shades shaking in her grasp. Her nerves went from defensive to terrified within that same minute, not knowing what was about to happen in the next few seconds until there is a noise towards the front of the house. A door opens and closes with footsteps soon trailing down the hallway. With a few bags in her hands from a quick run to the local store, Paige walks into the living but gradually comes to a halt when she sees the back of a stranger in her house.

"Uhm...who did you bring over, Ashlynn?"

Emily's face tensed up at the sound of her voice. In all those months left in captivity, Paige's voice is what gave Emily the strength to get by every day. Not in one hundred lifetimes would she believe the thought of her one day being triggered with rage just by hearing her breathe the same air she was in. She slowly turns around to face Paige with unadulterated disgust smeared all over.

" _Ashlynn_...?"

Getting a good look at this stranger, Paige gasps, clutching her chest while the bags she once held crashed onto the floor.

"EMILY!" she chokes out in total astonishment before her weak legs ran over to her presumably dead girlfriend, arms out and ready for the tightest embrace of her life. "EMILY, OH MY GO-"

Emily's hand smacks against Paige's chest to stop her from getting close. All the joy turned to confusion as tears flew down her face. Emily casually lowers her hand, takes her sunglasses and nesting them at the top of her head, coolly and quietly. She was livid. But the scariest thing to her was that she was so furious that she remained calm.

"Ashlynn…" she called out to the girl who now had a name without even looking at her, keeping her eyes down at the floor. "Get out-"

Without Emily being able to finish pronounce 'out', Ashlynn grabbed her jacket that was draped over the top of the couch and rushed her way past her and Paige, making sure she moved practically against the wall to make sure Emily wouldn't suddenly lunge at her. Paige watches on puzzled by the sudden scene as she sniffled, hugging herself before she glanced back at Emily and her fragile appearance.

"Emil-"

"You're cheating on me?"

The placement of such words stunned the speech right out of Paige as she stared at Emily with her mouth slight agape. Although one second, the silence told Emily everything she never wanted to know. Her eyes drift over to the bags Paige had dropped and slowly strode over to it, scooping her hand into one of the white bags to pull out a can of corn. She tosses the can in the air and lets it land back into her palm as she pressed her lips together. This happens a few times before she tilted her head at Paige with squinted eyes.

"Were you going to cook for her?"

"N-No, I-"

Emily swings her arm, hurling the aluminum can with all her power and sent it speeding out of their living room window like a baseball, shattering the glass with a large hole remaining as the corn lands somewhere in the backyard.

"EMILY!" Paige wheezes out in terror as the sound of raining glass falls all over the floor.

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, PAIGE?! _IN MY HOUSE_?!" the calm and collect demeanor flies out of Emily's body as she marches up to Paige, ripping the sunglasses out of her hair and slamming it to the ground with a roar that rocked her off her feet. "AFTER EVERYTHING WE BUILT TOGETHER, YOU FUCKING CHEATED ON ME?! _ON ME?_!"

She throws her hands out and instinctively goes to choke her but stops herself halfway. Her hawk-like grip shakes violently as she leaves them in the air, inches away from Paige's neck while Paige frightfully stares at Emily in her eyes. Her heart sinks to her feet when she sees the discoloration of her left eye, making Emily look like a completely different person in her wrath. Emily drops her hands, letting out a frustrated shout while she twists her body away from Paige to resist the sweet temptation.

Paige's hands unconsciously fly up to her neck while gasping, never been so close to Emily actually physically assaulting her. "Emily, I thought you were dead!"

"So that gives you a green light to fuck other people!?" Emily spins back on her heels to stand face to face with her once again.

"No! There is nothing between us! I-I-I-I don't feel anything! She's just been here for me during this hard time!"

"BULLSHIT!"

"Emily! I thought you died on me! Everyone did! She's been nice enough to help me cope over you! I was losing my mind over here!"

"YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT LOSING YOUR MIND TRULY FEELS LIKE!" Emily shoves a finger into Paige's face, now her whole body visibly shaking. She felt out of breath. She felt out of control. With every second, strips of her humanity was dissolving and she knew it was soon before she did something that will be damaging to both of them.

"The bitch told me! You guys fucked _in my house! My home!_ It's only been three months and you're already fucking other people and you have the BALLS to say that you're coping?!"

"No! It-"

"If you died, it would take me years to get over you! YEARS!" Emily backs up, her anger starting to become masked with sadness. "I wouldn't even _look_ at another woman let alone leave the house! I would be in such a deep spiral of depression, it would probably kill me! Because I loved you and you were my soulmate! It would destroy everything that made me, me if you died! The world….everything, everyone would mean nothing to me!"

Paige's chest caves in as she tries to control her breathing. She's still wrapping her head around the notion that Emily was actually standing right in front of her after being told she was killed in action. Who else knew about this? How did she get home? What happened overseas?!

"I don't believe this…" Emily turns around, putting her head in her heads as she lowered her voice to a hushed mumble. "I should have died. I should have let kill me. I should have let them kill me…"

Paige cautiously walks up behind Emily, wanting but afraid to touch her as if she was a wild, untrained animal that could snap and attack any moment. "Emily….what happened to you?" she places a gentle hand on Emily's shoulder before she raised her voice again.

"I stayed alive for you! They took me from my truck-blew it up!" Emily turns around to look in Paige's sympathetic eyes with her own wide and aggressive. "They _blew_ up my truck, ripped me and my guys out and kidnapped us. They took us to this hidden cave and _BEAT US._ Everyday! I watched them kill one of my own! Shot him right in the face! Then watched my friend kill himself right in front of me! They wanted to kill us all and I fought-"

Emily wipes her mouth as spit started flying out due to the anger building up again.

"I fought for my life. Even when I knew I was going to die, even when I knew I wanted to give up, I didn't. _For you_. I had to get back come to you. Through all the pain, the suffering, I fought! I cursed God for leaving me and just when I thought it was finally over, mysteriously, there was a way out. But! Looks like he came with a comeback! The last laugh! You literally FUCKED another girl in my house!" Emily throws her hands out to point at Paige before she slammed them into her thighs.

No matter how many times she says it, she can't get over the simple fact that this was happening to her. Paige, of all people, was the last person she thought would cheat on her. She gave her so much love, so much respect, so much of anything she's ever wanted. Even when Paige had her moments of skepticism and wanted Emily to cut ties with her ex or people she didn't like/trust, Emily complied to it with no pushback. Just to show Paige that she has nothing to hide and wants nobody but her. Nevertheless, all it took was a death notification and a handful of weeks before she's allows herself to fall for one of the biggest traps in the game. She let someone "be there" for her, be the shoulder to cry on when she needed it, all while the other person is using it as an opportunity to slide in and be the knight in shining armor.

 _She couldn't believe this was happening._

"I should have went out guns blazing. If I would have known this shit you were pulling while I was out there going insane, I would have went and took as many people as I could with me before they fucking pumped my body with bullets."

"Don't talk like that!"

"I SHOULD HAVE." Emily turns and yells in Paige's face, backing her up into a wall. "I WISH WHEN THEY HAD A GUN IN MY FACE, THEY WOULD HAVE JUST PULLED THE FUCKING TRIGGER. BECAUSE THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN EASIER THAN THE DEATH YOU JUST GAVE ME!"

Paige silently sobs as she couldn't stop looking in Emily's left eye, watching tears roll down her cheeks. It looked like she was wearing some kind of special effects contacts and it scared her along with all the words she was saying. It was so foreign, she didn't know Emily could even think of such sentences.

"Emily, please…" Paige reaches up for Emily's face slowly with just the need to hold her. To feel her. To be with her again. "I just got you back. Can we just-"

Emily disgustedly smacks Paige's hands away from her, walking off. "You better call somebody, maybe that slut or someone to stay with because all of your shit is leaving in the next hour. I don't give a damn if you stay at a homeless shelter tonight."

"Em!"

"And most of this isn't even your shit because I fucking paid for EVERYTHING IN THIS HOUSE! EVERYTHING!" Emily walks up to a large, colorful abstract painting they hung on their living room wall. "THIS PAINTING? I BROUGHT IT!" she rips it down, destroying the glass and frame all over their hardwood floor.

"THIS BOOKSHELF!" she crunches the glass under her shoes as she approaches a small black shelf they had with a row of books she enjoyed reading. Emily brings down her fist and hammers the wood right off the wall, with everything crashing down. "I BROUGHT IT AND PUT IT TOGETHER!"

Paige stands in frozen horror as Emily stomps past the mess she's created and goes to one of their little display on a small table they had. She picks up a 3d glass cube that had a hologram-like portrait of them inside.

"THIS 3D GLASS THAT WE GOT IN VEGAS?! THAT COSTED $200?! I FUCKING BROUGHT IT!" she launches it into the floor, chipping a piece of the hardwood among the explosion with the powerful force she had behind it. All the noise and chaos was too much for Paige and she makes a b-line for the stairs to leave but it wasn't long before Emily followed right after her.

"Oh, you want to go upstairs?! Okay! Let's see what I brought upstairs because I know just about 96% of the stuff is mines!" Emily marches up the stairs in step behind Paige as Paige cried to herself, wishing this madness, this screaming and terrorizing could end. She felt like she was in a nightmare within a nightmare.

"You barely bring in enough to pay the mortgage." Emily reminds her. "What, $1300 every two weeks? I've been supportive. I've told you I love you and not to worry about it. That you'll get that job someday, that you'll get that position someday. I make enough money to pick up the difference, even get a bit fancy with it and buy you things. Buy you that TV, buy you that brand new computer. Whenever you needed something, I'd buy it for you because I love you and want to make life comfortable for us."

Paige walks into their master bedroom with her hands on her face, not knowing what to do now that she was there with Emily still yelling at her.

"Then you have some girl, laying on _my bed!_ Laying on _my couch!_ Using _my kitchen, my silverware, my plates, my cups!_ THIS WHOLE HOUSE AND EVERYTHING IN IT IS UNDER MY NAME AND YOU DO THIS TO ME!"

"We had a funeral!" Paige finally pushes back with her voice raising to match Emily's level. "A memorial, people setting up vigils, every major news station across America was grieving for you! Emily, they said you were dead! I was bearing this alone!"

"I DON'T GIVE A FUCKING RAT'S ASS WHAT _THEY_ SAID!" Emily moves to her with a menacing step. Paige was pretty sure the whole neighborhood was hearing Emily's screams and were either ready to call the cops or eating popcorn outside the window.

What happened between her and Ashlynn was never intentional. After weeks and weeks of such an angry and dark state, Ashlynn made herself that person who wanted to look out for her, being there for whatever she needed. One night of sitting mindlessly on the bed, with no desire to leave it, Ashlynn stayed by her side and did her best to get Paige's mind of things. And it worked. Ashlynn had said something that, for the first time in a while, made her laugh. Sometime later, before they knew it, the feeling of loneliness guided the next move that would be the catalyst of this bomb within Emily.

"Why don't you get it?! Why don't you get it?!" Emily walks up to Paige, compelling her to nervously pace backwards. Without any warning, Emily thrusts her hand out and grips Paige's neck, pushing her against their bedroom wall forcibly. "WHY DON'T YOU GET IT?! I LOVED YOU!"

"Emily!" Paige gasps out as she clawed away at Emily's bruised hand, trying to yank her off but Emily's strength was unbeatable with this moment of adrenaline.

"I wanted to make a life with you! I wanted to have kids with you! To have a family and create a future together! It was supposed to be us and you threw it away!"

" _I can't breathe!_ "

" _You_ threw it away!" Emily unconsciously tightens her grip, thumping the back of Paige's head against the wall as her eyes scan her girlfriend's face. "Not me! _Not me!"_

Paige swallows down thickly as her eyes bulge and legs buckle. She goes from trying to peel Emily's hand from her neck to trying to push her off. Words struggle from her mouth as a battle between talking and breathing take place. Finally, Emily let's go and Paige inhales a deep gasp as she crouches over, hacking.

"What...what the hell! Don't you EVER put your hands on me!" Paige shoves Emily backwards but hardly has her stumbling back. Emily keeps her ferocious eyes on Paige still trying to compose herself from the sudden attack. It doesn't even click to her what she just did but with her spinning mind, she refused to stop until Paige understood the severity of her actions.

"You don't get it..." she shakes her head. "You don't fucking get it."

She swiftly walks away from Paige and heads to their master bathroom. Everything was nearly exactly as she left it when it came to her things when she rips open the door of their medicine cabinet and grabs one of her pain medications. She unscrews the cap and dumps all the pills out onto the counter, not caring if some fell on the floor or in the sink. She tosses the bottle behind her and within those tablets stuffed inside, she grabbed the engagement ring she hid, knowing through Paige's cleaning sprees, she would never find it. She blows the chalk reside off the diamond before she stomps right out.

"After the deployment was done with and I came back home, I was going to propose to you, you dumb bitch!" Emily pants in a mixture between resentment and sorrow wrapped in one. Paige's eyes slowly focus on the ring pinched between Emily's fingers with the biggest look of astonishment right after seeing Emily again.

"Fourteen karat white gold band, three rounded diamonds in the center with more diamonds on the side! And that's without the tax and fees added! $2,400 I spent!" Paige's mouth didn't seem to leave the floor as Emily closed her eyes, furiously shaking her head. "All of this because I loved you, you _stupid, stupid, stupid_ CUNT!"

"Em, listen to me….I swear to you that it was one time and meant nothing."

"Then where are my pictures?! I don't see a damn picture of me anywhere! Where are they?!"

"I took them down because it hurt to see your smile knowing you were gone! You were everywhere I looked and all it did was reminded me of what I lost. I couldn't bare it!"

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" Emily shouts at the top of her lungs as she stomps her feet, scaring Paige. "GRAB YOUR SHIT AND GET OUT! I DON'T CARE WHERE YOU GO. YOU HAVE ONE FUCKING HOUR."

Emily turns and leaves the master room, slamming the door behind her and jogs down the stairs. She felt dizzy. All she saw was a haze of red and knew she was at dangerous levels now. Pocketing the ring, she goes into kitchen and yanks open the fridge doors. All that screaming made her throat immensely dry and she needed something. Something cold.

She grabs a single bottle of beer, two left from a four pack Paige brought, and decided this was perfect for her needs. She cracks it open using her hand and the ends of her shirt and lets the cap fall on the floor. As she walks back to the living room, taking down a large gulp, she plops herself down one her single, recliner seat. At this point, Emily didn't know what to do but to just sit and try to cool down. She knew it was impossible but she had to somehow, for her own safety.

…..

Two Natural Ice's and a glass of Hennessy later, Emily is leaned back into her chair, staring off into space. It's been nearly an hour and a half when Paige finally comes to her, balling her eyes out while she sitting at Emily's feet, begging.

Being so far at the moment, Emily doesn't look at her, let alone even know she's there. It was if the whole world was muted in her distant thoughts and she didn't know where she was. She was suspended in time. Finally a few minutes into sulking on the floor before her, Emily's dead eyes come back into focus, glancing down at Paige who just suddenly appeared.

"…What the fuck are you still doing here?"

"Emily, please." Paige wipes her eyes, trying to make her case while Emily takes another swig of her glass. "We don't have to do this. We don't have to do any of this. I love you. I always have and would never purposely go to destroy that. Your death rocked me in ways I don't know I could be rocked. I thought that was it for me, that I couldn't feel anything. What happened with Ashlynn and I was nothing. Nothing but loneliness. Missing you so much that I was going out of my mind. I knew that all hope was lost. Now you're back in my life and there is _nothing_ I want more in this world but you, _baby_. I love you."

Emily sucks on one of the ice cubes in her glass as she silently stared at her now ex. An uncomfortable silence it was as Paige hoped that with time to calm down and an opportunity to prove herself that they wouldn't have to make such a drastic change in their lives.

"I hope you die." Emily finally speaks through her still yet irritated voice. "I really hope on your way driving to that slut's house, which you're probably going to anyways, you get into a massive car accident and die right on the side of the road. _Just you_. Nobody else."

Emily raises her glass to her lips and takes yet another sip of her brandy that has been whispering sweet nothings into her ears, numbing her brain for the time being. Paige brings her hands up to cover her face as she now started heavily sobbing harder than before.

"And don't you even _think_ to call my parents, you whore. You are forbidden from having any kind of contact with them. When I'm ready, I'm going to see them in person myself." Emily pushes herself off the couch and steps over Paige like she was beneath her, swallowing down the rest of her liquor.

"If I find out you're talking to anyone from my side, family _or_ friends, I'm going to kick your sorry ass. I will have you fucking jumped, play with me if you want to."

Paige reaches for Emily's ankles, desperately wanting to hold onto her when Emily jerks her leg out of her grasp.

"I couldn't call them even if I wanted to. They're not here." Paige sniffles as she stayed dejectedly on the floor.

Emily turns her head. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"They left. Went to the Philippines. Something to do with your mom's mother? I don't really know but I know they left about four days ago."

Emily's eyes drift away to the side as she thinks for a moment. _Something to do with her grandmother._ They don't fly back home often but with Emily being "dead", habits could change. With Paige already gone back and forth stuffing her things into her car, Emily grabs her remaining large, multicolored suitcase that stood by the bottom of the staircase and rolled it all the way to the front. Paige had no choice but to somberly follow after as Emily actively kicked her out of the house they made a home together. Kicked her out of the life they've created. Kicked her out everything she's ever known and sacrificed to be with her.

Emily pushed the suitcase over the threshold onto the porch and waited for Paige to walk out before she slammed the door shut. She didn't move much after that, just standing in place, breathing.

Realizing what just happened.

Everything she imagined coming home would be like….

Was just that.

An imagination.

Emily glances down at her hand and sees Wyler's black and white wristband she still wore – something she refused anyone to remove from her. Looking at it for a few seconds, she takes the tightly gripped glass in her hand and chucks it a nearby mirror that hung on the wall, bringing it down to break all over the floor. The feeling of loss of control made Emily feel like a wild animal but she couldn't help her impulses. She wanted to destroy everything around her or else she wouldn't find peace.

And that she did.

The Tasmanian devil arose in Emily and anything that was within reach she knocked down, broke, and/or shattered. Picture frames, shelves, appliances, plates, antiques, anything. Things were tossed when Emily came into the kitchen and threw a cookbook that they had hanging around. The pages flew open and dropped an object from inside. This temporarily stopped Emily and gained her attention at the black foreign object that laid on the mess of a floor. She walked up to it slowly and took notice of its shape before she remembered.

She bent down and picked up the gun she had hidden for security purposes, just in case. If something were to ever occur, nobody would find a weapon inside a hollowed out cookbook. She stared at the glock for a few moments before she checked inside the magazine.

Full clip.

She slides the magazine back in place as she lets the gun balance in her palm, feeling the weight of it before she abruptly punted the cookbook away from her.

…

Two hours later, there Emily sat.

With the gun on the table to her left and the her house phone in her right hand, Emily sits at her dining room table in front of her laptop that she had in Afghanistan but ended up finding in a box of her stuff that the Military had sent back after her "death". Her glassy eyes accompany the slight sway she had after finishing the entire bottle of Hennessy, surrounded by broken chaos.

She takes her time in scrolling through the phone's contacts until she found the particular number she was looking for. She hits dial and brings it to her ear to listen to the call ring.

"This is Hanna Marin and you have reached my voicemail. Leave your information and I'll get to you as soon as I see it. Bye!"

Emily hangs up the phone. She didn't want to get a stupid voicemail, she wanted to talk to her friend. The phone didn't even ring before going to voicemail so it made her wonder if her phone was off or if she was busy.

She redials.

"This is Hanna Marin and you have reached my voicemail."

 _Redial._

"This is Hanna Marin and you have reached my voicemail."

Emily groans as she listens to the voicemail play out before a beep sounded.

"Answer your damn phone, Hanna." she grumbles in a drunken, low voice before she hung up. She scratches her head before she dropped her hands onto her lap. She ponders for a second before she brought up the phone again for another option.

 _Ring…._

 _Ring…._

 _Ring…._

 _Ring…._

 _Ring…._

"Hello, this is Toby Cavanaugh's phone and unfortunately I am unable to answer your call. I'm either on the job or doing something that has me away from my phone. If you leave a contact, I'll call you back as soon as possible. Thanks."

Emily hangs up. Zero out of two so far. She tiredly scrolls again before she calls someone else.

 _Ring…_

 _Ring…_

 _Ri-_

"Oh shit." Emily quickly hangs up the phone. Without thinking about it, she called Haynes' phone, completely forgetting he was still on deployment. Emily lightly flings the phone onto the table top before her eyes glanced over to her computer. The screen sat on Facebook, specifically her mother's page to see she's been inactive for months with the only newer activity being that one of her distant family members tagging her in something.

 **Emily's feet stumble over each other as she's shoved into a room with her arms tied behind her back and blindfold shielding her eyes. She has no idea what to expect but a single light, dark chuckle made every follicle on her body raise.**

Emily grabs the ends of her laptop and forcibly propels it off the table, making it flip over the edge and smack onto the ground as her breathing gets heavier.

" **Run."**

 **Emily panics and twists her body in the same direction they pushed her in from. Before she could even get her fifth step in, a solid thump caught her in her back, making her trip and hit the floor. More laughing was heard along with some kind of bouncing besides her. If her thinking wasn't far off, the way she was knocked off her feet and the noise made afterwards sounded like a ball. A thick, dense ball at that.**

" **Get up!"**

 **Emily struggles getting back up to her feet after the attack when another ball is aimed at her stomach, causing her to cave in and fall right back onto the ground.**

 **Blind dodgeball. That's what this was.**

Emily grits her teeth as she instinctively grabbed the gun beside her. Holding her head, she tried to block out the flashbacks that kept overplaying in her head but she couldn't stop them. She can still smell the rooms, feel the coldness of the floor beneath her hands, the taste the iron of the blood on her lips. She just needed it to stop. She needed Majid to flee from her thoughts but he wouldn't. It was as if he was right next to her, forcing her eyelids open to watch the tapes of her misery.

 **Emily holds herself up against a wall, trembling in her loose fitting clothes as she kept her defenses up. Her breath comes out unsteady and terrified as she moves her head around to hear her surroundings. To her surprise, a fist ripples through her stomach, buckling her legs as she falls knees first. If organs could be rearranged just from one blow, Emily was certain her intestines were obliterated if not sent flying in different directions.**

Emily's teeth clatter in exasperation while her fingers dug into her scalp to stop the imagery. Without ways to properly cope, Emily belts out a long, infuriated yell as hard as her lungs could handle.

" **AAAAAAAAAAAHHH!" One of the guards shout alongside Emily right by her ear, mocking her anguish with laughter afterwards. He stretches out his fingers as he looked down at her curling up into a helpless ball before he reaches down and grabs her by her hair, pulling her up to her feet whether she could stand or not. He pushes her in the direction of the other men standing by before her weakness gave in and made her collapsed halfway.**

Everything flashed like an epilepsy-inducing light show. Memory after memory bombed and disintegrated her mind to the point she felt like she was back in prison, never leaving captivity. Her hand swiftly presses the cold, heavy barrel to her temple as tears stained her face and dropped off her chin. She sniffled through her runny nose as she looked up to the ceiling, silently begging for a way out of this hell. She's home but she's still trapped and it wasn't fair. She wanted to die. She wanted to finally let go when she was brought back like some cruel joke. Her thinking was through tunnel vision right now and any clear minded decision was clouded by sweet yet sinister voices in her head telling her to do it - like a juicy, red apple of escape laced with the poison of death.

Emily's hand began to sweat immensely as she struggled to keep the gun straight. Her sight blurred before her and all she could hear was her wheezing.

She had to do this. There is no other way out.

" **What's up, Em? It's been a while!" a young guy smiles at her, giving her a high five.**

 **Emily spins around and she's surrounded with about 50 friendly faces she's seen throughout her life.**

" **Remember when we were in Mrs. Neeley's class and I had that black gum that stained everyone's teeth?" another past male friend placed a hand on Emily's shoulder while laughing. "Oh man! You didn't talk to me for like a week!"**

 **The guy suddenly twisted like a tabletop before he was replaced by someone else smiling.**

" **Swimming with you was so fun in college, Em! We kicked ass!"**

 **The former college peer spun as well, like a character selection screen on a video game when you shifted through different people to play with.**

" **You got into the Rangers regiment?! That's what the fuck I'm talking about!"**

 _ **Spin.**_

" **Let's do Tuesday again, alright!"**

 _ **Spin.**_

" **Can you believe we're adults now? Felt like yesterday we were freshmen in high school."**

 _ **Spin.**_

" **YOU CAN'T SERVE TWO GODS! You have to serve just one!" Majid holds up a finger with strands of his hair falling in his face.**

 _ **Spin.**_

" **Em…" Maya cocks her head as she carefully observed Emily's erratic behavior. "What's wrong?"**

 _ **Spin.**_

 **Wyler pinches his brows together with his sudden appearance. The side of his face was blown out yet all motor skills were fully intact. He reaches out for her with a concerned look on his face. "Emily. Don't follow me."**

Emily shakily gasps out with a hard shudder and drops the gun, clattering against the floor. She puts her rocky hands onto her chest as she pants. The sight of Matthew scared the hell of out her because it was as if he was right in front of her. The constant tug-of-war, back and forth, good vs evil, right vs wrong made the complexity level of her situation grow by 80%.

She wanted to die.

But a part of her didn't.

But she wanted to die.

She wanted the pain to go away.

She wanted the voices to stop.

She wanted the images to stop flickering.

She wanted to dead Paige for betraying her.

She wanted to dead Majid from her remembrance.

But she couldn't.

She swallows down hard and stares at the grey walls before her. Never has she felt so low but she needed just one moment…one moment to think. One moment of a silver lining in all of this.

Her eyes drift to the house phone that she threw on top of the table and slowly leaned for it. She didn't know exactly what she was doing or how to even get to where she wanted, but it was worth a try. The final attempt to reach out for the branch above her while she constantly dipped under in the sweeping tides.

267…Emily began dialing. It was like a song, she remembered. There's a high possibility the number changed but she had to try. Just in case. With the ten digits now written on the screen, Emily gawked at it for what felt like an extremely long time before she pressed call.

 _Ring…_

Emily quickly hit end call before the second ring could sound. The screen erased the number and all Emily could do is just sit there.

Silently.

 _Redial._

 _Ring…._

 _Ring…._

 _Ring…._

"Hello?"

The only thing that comes out from Emily's end was her harsh breathing. She didn't think her tears would fall this fast at the mere resonance of a voice. Even with a low chance of this working, Emily hit it big.

" _Hello?_ " the voice asked again for confirmation that nobody was there so they could hang up.

"Maya…" Emily's weak voice finally answers.

"Who am I speaking with?" Maya asks politely with a hint of suspicion due to how her name was spoken. It didn't seem like your everyday phone call.

Emily bows her head and starts to cry, unable to hold back any of her overwhelming emotions anymore. All she's ever been doing is staying strong but she couldn't anymore. It was impossible. And while it wasn't the best idea to begin sobbing with the phone pressed to your ear, Emily couldn't help it.

Maya continues to stay on the phone instead of ending it, curious to see how this was going to play out. Surely it was some kind of prank call by one of her friends being childish.

"Maya, help me."

Maya rolls her eyes as she leans back into her couch, enjoying her private time snuggled watching Netflix documentaries. "Help you with what?"

"It's me….it's me, Emily."

 _Okay. This isn't funny anymore._

"No, it's not." Maya's tone changed to a more serious manner. "Emily died months ago."

The pained sobbing continues on the other end which causes Maya to sit up straight.

"You know, it's not funny to play games like that. Do something else to pass your time, jerk off."

"Maya, _please_." Emily urged within her beg as if her time was running out. "I'm not dead. I'm…here. I made it back and I need you. _I need you, please_."

A chill rocketed throughout Maya's body, sending every hair up and goosebumps arising unlike anything she's ever felt before. Nobody on this planet can imitate that voice. That voice she's listened to for years. That voice that's she's heard different variations of: sadness, excitement anguish, lust, worriedness, anger, she knew them all. Nobody on this planet can replicate that voice.

"Where are you?"

…..

It's been two and a half hours since Emily last spoke with Maya before hanging up. Without saying much, she gave her address and Maya vowed that she would be on her way as soon as possible. During that time frame of waiting, Emily felt still and numb. She was ordered not to do anything and that command she took. With the GPS plugged in and car started, Maya flew herself together to grab a few items before she hopped into her vehicle and got onto the highway of the Atlanta night. This was extremely surreal. She often asked herself if this was real. Was she really driving to Columbus? To see an "undead" Emily? Was she really doing this? Was this a dream?

Seven at night with the sun long gone, Emily is pulled out of her daze when the doorbell rings. She glances over to the front door from her living room and raises to her feet, still unsteady from the drunken stupor she put herself in prior. It takes her a minute to bypass all the things on the floor to eventually reach the front.

Twisting the knob and opening the door, Emily's and Maya's hearts dropped but for different reasons. Since 2005, Emily hasn't seen Maya yet her presence before her, that wasn't a figment of her imagination, was a lot to handle. She had hardly aged, still looking as radiant as their youthful years but with a more matured vibe that spoke for itself. In her dark grey Savannah State hoodie and black skinnies that were just tossed on, Maya looked up at Emily with tears in her eyes. She rushes up to her and wraps Emily in her arms just as every author writes lovers reuniting in a story. How poets describe the feeling of that connection in a writing. How music serenades the harmony in a song. How directors portray old hearts in a movie.

Emily holds Maya's petite body against her own as if she was trying to dissolve into her warmth. Maya cradles the back of her head as Emily buries her face deep inside their hug. They could have been standing there for 20 seconds or 20 minutes, it didn't matter to either one of them because they didn't want to let go. After some time passes, they separate with Maya's hands automatically sliding up to Emily's warm face. Tears stream down as Emily leaned her cheek into her hands, gazing at her as tortured and scared soul.

"What did they do to you?" Maya bares out a whisper as she looked from Emily's eyes to her gaunt face. She has always been a stronger build than her has but as of right now, it seemed like Emily was trying to take her place in size.

"… _Bad things_ …" Emily admits in a small, fragile voice as she weakens by the second. Every piece of anger was being replaced with the hurt that was being masked over and all she wanted right now was to be held after so long of not being touched.

"I should have never left you."

"Wh…what?"

"I shouldn't have let distance get in-between us. I should have never left you. The whole thing with Paige was a mistake. Everything." Emily rambles at a quickened pace through her tears. "I should have kept in touch. You're the only one right for me, not her. _Not her_. She didn't know me like you did. You would have never betrayed-"

"Wait, wait, slow down, slow down." Maya shakes her head to process everything at once. She knows this was their first reunion and emotions are heightened along with an underlying sense of excitement but Emily was speeding through her words like she only had seconds to say them.

"Where is Paige?"

"…I kicked her out."

"Why? Why did you kick her out?"

Emily's already heavy heart sunk to the floor having to say these words out loud after everything she's been through. Her mouth twists into a frown as Maya waits for her to speak.

"She cheated on me. I came home and found some other girl he…here."

Maya's closes her eyes painfully as she listens to Emily's hitched breathing. For as long as she knew, she found out that Emily started seeing other people within her first year of college. She wasn't upset or anything because they did go their separate ways but it did sting seeing her happy smiles with someone else. She would admit from time to time she would check up on Emily but that stopped within two years' time when she found herself unable to access Emily's social media pages. Around then, Paige would see them having small chats here and there and wasn't a big fan of it now that her and Emily were becoming more serious. She then told Emily that she would feel more comfortable if she cut connections with her. Just out of compliance and lack of fighting/suspicion, Emily consented, unfriending and unfollowing Maya everywhere so all she would have is a private screen whenever she visited again.

Now here they were, Paige out of the picture and Maya back in.

She let out a deep sigh, before rose onto her toes, bringing Emily's forehead to hers.

"I'm not going to let you go through this alone. I'm not…..I'm gonna take care of you, okay?"

….

 _5 Days Later….._

Since that night of Emily touching down back home and calling her ex, Maya did everything Paige failed to do. The first night was the hardest. Emily wouldn't sleep but when she finally did, she was riddled with nightmares that would make her physically jolt out of her skin. Luckily, Maya had just the right patience to help Emily. From helping her shower, soothing her episodes, feeding her, and cleaning up the mess she created in her spouts of anger, Maya did everything she could to keep Emily at ease. It was one of the most difficult, heartbreaking moments of her life – seeing someone she loved dearly and hardly recognizing them. She would always fall back on how Emily used to be but this Emily was completely different. Sensitive to sudden light, sensitive to sudden touches, fighting demons within herself that she couldn't pick up a sword and help slay them herself.

They kept this their little secret while they hid out in the house.

However, Maya abruptly upped and left her life to tend to Emily and it came with consequences. Her current boss was someone she wasn't so keen on prior to everything and knew asking for time off would create an issue. No matter how much she would beg to cash in her vacation time now, the employer would give her all kinds of pushback, barely allowing her a few days to handle her business and come back if she still wanted a job.

No matter how many times Emily asked her to leave her job, to leave Atlanta and to stay with her, Maya couldn't despite desperately wanting to. But Emily's cloudy judgement couldn't understand why she couldn't switch gears on the fly with her.

 **In the guest room where they've been staying, it was 3 in the morning and there they laid under the sheets with Emily's eyes not leaving Maya. They've been pressed up on each other, Maya stroking her face ever so softly in the silence of the night while Emily wallowed under her touch, staring at her.**

" **Marry me." Emily whispers, barely blinking an eye. Maya, however, was completely caught off-guard, slowing her strokes down as she raised a brow.**

" **What?"**

" **We could get married. Go through life the way it should have been…"**

" **Em…Emily, you don't mean that-"**

" **I do. I'm dead serious." Emily pulls away from Maya's hands and leans over to the edge of the bed where the nightstand stood. She opens one of the drawers, fumbling inside when she comes back up.**

" **We could do it. All you have to say is yes and all of this will be yours."**

 **Maya's eyes catch the glint of some kind of object in Emily's grasp. She leans forward and sees a diamond ring, quickly glancing back up at Emily's face – honest yet wanting. She didn't care that her plans were to propose to Paige. She didn't care who or where the ring was "supposed" to go. Being $2400, she has the ability to make up her mind at any given moment. And at this moment, she knew where she wanted it.**

" **I know how you're feeling – needing that emotional security again that you lost but…this is a big thing. This is more than saying you want to date again. This….this is** _ **marriage.**_ **"**

" **I deserve you, Maya." Emily voice gradually gets louder with her face pinched with brewing frustration. "After everything I've been though, I think I know what I want!"**

" _ **Nonono**_ **." Maya quickly reached for Emily's hand, rubbing circles on the back as she cooed her with soft speaking. "We don't have to go there. We don't have to go there." she repeats in a soothing manner, keeping Emily's eyes on hers.**

" **Don't cave into it. Don't cave. We don't have to go there."**

 **The rapid growing emotion of overwhelming irritation that would arising from the slightest discomfort started to ease back down with the gentle touch and reassurance. Emily inhales and exhales quietly and to herself until she felt in control again.**

 **Her face has always been still. Calm. Her brown eyes observant and taking in the whole scene before making the move to speak. That's one thing Emily liked. The calmness. No matter how angry she would get, Maya would always be calm.**

" **I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout at you."**

" **I know, baby girl. I know."**

The day of her last time with Emily, Maya wanted to bring Emily with her but knew there was somewhere else she should be.

"Why haven't you called your parents, Em?" Maya asked softly as she sat next to Emily at the dining table, eating the food that she had cooked for them. She watches Emily take her time to chew with absolutely no rush before she swallowed and proceeded to speak.

"I wasn't ready." she simply responded before she took another spoonful of the rice and beans.

Maya treaded carefully, not wanting to push Emily with questions. "What is ready for you?"

"I didn't want them to see me in….that state. That state of aggression and madness and loss of control. I didn't want to scare them or make them change their perception of me."

"They're you're parents, babe. They've seen all kinds of sides to you. Nothing would change."

" _Not like that_." Emily shakes her head. "Nobody has ever seen me like that…..not even myself."

"…Well…you know when you're ready. But I think you should call them now, let them know that you're here. Go see them."

"I will."

Maya continued to watch Emily eat, resting her tilted head on the palm of her hand. Time kept on spinning until it was time for Maya to head on the road in order to keep the only job she had so she was able to maintain her lifestyle of living. While she would love to steal Emily away and be with her, she knew where she was on the totem pole. The only people who knew of Emily's presence was her and Paige. Not even her family or her closest friends. For the betterment of her health, Maya urged Emily to call someone so they can see her. Emily knew she was right and knew she was going to do it so she yes'd her to death until it was actually time for her to leave.

"Let me get out of here before I end up homeless." Maya joked as they stood next to the front door.

"There's still time." Emily offered. "You can say screw it and come here."

"Em-"

"I mean, what _is_ in Atlanta, anyways? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just because they have the CNN building doesn't mean the city is of any importance."

Maya chuckles with a smile at Emily's final attempts to keep her before she reaches up, placing a hand on the side of Emily face as she kissed her goodbye. Emily held onto that kiss, keeping their lips pressed for as long as she could before they pulled apart. They gazed at one another one last time before Emily leaned in for another kiss. Maya slides down from Emily's face and into her hands as they interlock them, pulling away from each other again.

"Get in contact with your parents, Em. _Right away._ You're better now. You can do it."

"I'm going to see them in person, don't worry."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

Maya slightly swings their hands side to side as she held their eye contact. "Baby, call me if you need someone to help you settle down. Do _not_ let yourself cave in. No matter how easy it seems, don't do it, you hear me?"

"Thank you." Emily says on beat with her sentence ending. A sad smile makes way on Maya's face before she kissed Emily's hand.

"You're very welcome."

…..

Emily stretches out her arms and back as she walked into the kitchen, grabbing a yogurt from the fridge. She thought about ways of contacting her parents, whether by phone or facebook message for them to call her. She knew it was going to cause a hysteria and she is just about ready for it…..she thinks. Never would she imagined that settling back into her life would be so difficult, so demanding and she wasn't sure what to really do with herself at this point. She may be alive but she was still dead in many places, whether legally or inside her heart.

She shuffles to her utensil drawer when her eyes glanced father down the counter. She grabbed a spoon and then moved over to where her attention was drawn. A single white card laying by itself. Emily picks it up when she sees the shimmer of the gold numbers once plated on it fading drastically.

She could still make out the full number but with the way it appears to be disappearing, she was going to be stuck with half a number in a couple of hours.

" **The offer will still stand after you leave.** _ **Seven days.**_ **If you go back and life isn't the way you wished it to be and need more details of things you thought you knew, you can call us."**

 _Need more details of things you thought you knew._

Emily pondered on that sentence for a good while. While being caught up with Maya, Emily cannot hide the fact of the things that happened to her before then. How a random man basically stated out her life facts as if it was some kind of specs sheet and how he knew of the military and their lack of "innocence and loyalty" towards her.

She waves the card between her fingers, eyes squinted, before she went and grabbed her home phone. She inspected the card with it up to her face as she punched in the numbers.

 _A little bit of curiosity wouldn't hurt anyone._

 _Ring…_

"Hello." a female voice answers nearly immediately which took Emily back some. She couldn't tell if this was a real person or an automated system but she pressed on anyway.

"Hi, I'm calling because I have been told some information that I was able to later follow up on out of curiosity of just…learning more, I guess. So….yeah..." Emily awkwardly ends herself, not knowing where or how to describe from there. Going in blind, she realized she should have went through a practice run.

"One moment." the professional voice responded. "Thank you for your call, Emily."

Emily cocks her head, pulling back to look at the phone as if it had a camera before she placed it back to her ear. "How did you know my name?"

"I thought I proved to you that we knew beyond your name, Emily." a familiar older gruff replaced the smoothness of the operator's voice. "Allow me to express how nice is it to hear from you again."

 **She did it…**

 **She finally escaped.**

 **But at what cost?**

 **I know you may be feeling multiple emotions right now and I am fully ready to embrace all of them. Whatever is on your mind let it out.**

 **Now, as many of you guys know, I have another fic that is within the last two chapters that I need to finish. You guessed it. Trouaville. Seeing that you guys have the entire prologue to digest, I'm going to hop back to 2015 Philadelphia where another universe of Emison lives. But just for a moment. So this is your notice of a small break before I update this story again. I've already written a monstrous 60k+ words for these past three updates which is something I hope you guys can hold onto.**

 **As you can see, there are many gaps in this update. While you have some answers, there are even more questions being asked now. That's where your theories come in. Don't hesitant to write your own as you try to figure what exactly is going on. You might just be onto something.**

 **There is no such thing as a long review so don't worry about length. There is a lot to swallow here.**

 **Maybe, just maybe, the videos I've put together on my profile description makes more sense...maybe.**

 **The year 2016 will be the next time we see Emily again. I wonder what she's up to…**

 **And for the Guest who asked for a future "Emison line", Luckily, I have one to share.**

" _ **Then why do you keep looking at my lips while I talk? Because I have no shame in saying that I can't help but to look at yours. The way words slip off your tongue and how your bottom lip pouts the way it does…it's mesmerizing. So forgive me if I stare…Ms. DiLaurentis."**_

 **Get ready for Ms, DiLaurentis herself in the next chapter ;)**


	5. Chapter 1: New 52

**Hi.**

 **Do you remember me?**

 **Let's start the first day of August with a bang, shall we?**

CHAPTER #1: New 52

 _Italics means thoughts, emphasized word or action._ **Bolded is a flashback.** (….) is an indication that time has passed.

 **Some say ice skating is one of the most elegant sport we have the privilege of witnessing. Not only being able to watch the storytelling that comes from the performances but the act of skating itself has been said to be pleasurable.**

 **It's the silent gliding. The crisp sound of the skates against the ice.**

 _ **Serene.**_

 _ **Calm.**_

 _ **Soothing.**_

 _ **Completely spellbinding.**_

 **As you pick up speed, you feel like you're seconds away from taking flight, not even touching the ground. You begin to cross one foot over the other as you fly down the rink and the world starts blurring around you. You're fully in control of your movements yet everything is moving too fast for your brain to fully focus. Crouching your body low to the ground, you let two fingers merely skim the ice, just to feel alive. Just to remember you're alive.**

 **The rhythmic trance you don't even realize you're in takes your mind away from everything that stresses you and melts it away in a trail left behind by your skates.**

 _ **Serene.**_

 _ **Calm.**_

 _ **Soothing.**_

 _ **Completely spellbinding.**_

 **Emily grips the steering wheel with her right hand as her left rests on her lap, melting away her troubles in the smooth driving of her supercar. The silent humming of the 2016 Acura NSX engine sends her in a world away from hers while she drives down the streets of Miami-Dade County. It's not often she decides to cruise around with no plan of a destination but sometimes it calls for it. To isolate and recuperate is healthy for the corroded mind. Especially one that is never silent.**

 **She rolls to a stop behind a small line of vehicles in front of her as the two lane street halts at a red light. Her eyes fall down to the dashboard, scanning the lights and signals momentarily before she eases back into her chair with a sigh. This particular day had a heavy and dragging feel to it as the sun played peek-a-boo behind the traveling grey clouds. It always amazed her how it could be incredibly sunny one second and then the next, they are minutes away from a downpour. So much for 20% chance of rain.**

 **Casually turning her head towards her lightly tinted passenger window, Emily's attention was temporarily captured when she watches an elderly woman hobble down the sidewalk, pushing a small foldable shopping cart filled with groceries and heavy, white plastic bags draped from her small arms. Emily's eyes follow every uneven step she takes in her ballet flats – flats that look like they're killing her feet with the lack of support they have.**

 **She shifts within her seat, taking a brief glimpse in her side mirror for a notice of how many cars are behind her. After a few more seconds of waiting, the lights switch to green and the street starts moving again. Emily drives with the flow, advancing about 100 feet before she slows down and flicks on her right signal. With an open parking spot against the sidewalk, she carefully inches her small, candy apple red sports car into the space before she thrusted the gears into park. Her attention is put into her rear view window as she watches the elder slowly shuffling her way down the sidewalk. Patiently waiting until she got close enough, Emily rolls down her window, and clears her throat.**

" **Excuse me, Miss?" she projects her voice loud enough over the neighboring traffic. The woman does a double take at Emily, not sure who she was talking to. "I can help you get to where you are going. I wouldn't want you to struggle, walking with all those heavy groceries."**

 **The elder shakes her head with a small wave of her hand and a polite smile. "Sorry. I okay." she responds through an overwhelmingly thick accent. She nods at Emily as a silent thank you and proceeds to keep walking when Emily calls for her again.**

" **Please. I can help."**

" **No, no I okay. I go to the bus stop and sit."**

" **The closet bus stop is a few miles out. It's not close here."**

" **No, no. It's good. I go."**

 **As a last attempt to convince this woman, Emily squints her eyes, peering through the front windshield window at the sun that has fully disappeared behind the clouds growing darker in numbers before she turns her head back to the passenger side.**

" **¿Dónde vives? No quiero que camines, te puedo llevar allí."**

" **No, Señorita." the elder slips into her native Spanish tongue, still denying Emily's request to help.** **"No tiene que preocuparse. Me perdí el último autobús y estoy tratando de recuperar el otro."**

" **Por favor, este no es el lugar más seguro para caminar y puedo ver que estás herido. Puedo llevarte a casa? ¿Dónde vives, vives cerca?" Emily presses on.**

 **The woman sighed out, staring at Emily sitting in her luxury car. It was almost as if she was debating within herself on whether to take the offer or not. Not knowing who Emily is and what her intentions could be –whether genuine or cruel- she eventually nods her head and points north, seeing that she was probably now going to miss this bus as well.**

" **Okay, okay. Yo vivo en 7th Ave."**

" **Perfecto."** **Emily smiles with a grateful head bow.** **"Me dirigía en esa dirección de todos modos. Vamos, vamos a poner la comida en el coche."**

" **Gracias.** **So very nice of you." the woman thanks her as Emily checks over her shoulder for any incoming vehicles or bicyclists before she unlocks her doors and hops out of the car.**

" **No problem. Let's try to get you home safely, okay?"**

… **.**

 **The jingling of keys echo through the apartment, wind chimes attached to the door handle twinkling sounds when a younger woman paces to the door. However, she slowed in her tracks upon the opening.**

" **Uhm…h-hi…?" She greets the unknown stranger entering the apartment holding onto five grocery bags. She stands there in total confusion, not knowing to attack the stranger or welcome them in when she sees the elder woman walk in behind her with her portable cart of food.**

" **Perdí mi autobús porque estaba atrapado en el mercado y esta chica me ayudó y me llevó aquí." the elder gleefully informed the mystified girl who changed her sights back to Emily.**

" **You drove my grandmother?"**

" **Yeah. Luckily too because we just beat the rain." Emily politely smiles before she waits for directions from the grandmother as to where she should set down the bags. She's pointed to the kitchen down the hall while the young woman springs to action as well and starts pulling bags out of the cart.**

" **I saw her walking and she told me she was going to catch another bus from the one she missed." Emily continues her explanation. "I couldn't have her walking that far with all this to hold."**

 **Everyone end up in the kitchen, Emily and the girl setting the bags on the counter as the grandmother starts putting things away. They scoot off to the side as the girl finds herself nearly speechless.**

" **Yeah…uhm-thank you. Thank you so much." she smiles at Emily with her mouth left slightly open, not knowing what to do with her hands before she settles for an arm cross. "I have my sister borrowing my car so I'm stuck for the next couple of days. Uh….here."**

 **She quickly skips her way to the living room on a small table where her purse laid. She pulls out her wallet as she walks back to Emily, pulling out a few twenties.**

" **Here is something for compensate for your troubles. A token of appreciation."**

" **Oh, please." Emily dismisses with a hand wave. "No money."**

" **Are you sure? I could pay for gas or something."**

" **Nonono. Keep it. Just see it as a random act of kindness."**

 **The granddaughter drops her head with a tight smile, looking at the money in her hands. Emily observes over the girl's sun-kissed skin, the small tank top she wore with no bra, and the thrown together top bun that swayed with every head movement. It is true that she didn't do this for any kind of reward or praise. There are just times when you see someone struggling, and you know you can help them in some way, you extend the hand. She doesn't do it as often as she used to but it's a nice refresher. To remind herself that she's still human.**

" **I don't know what to say." the girl lifts her hazel eyes to find Emily's big, browns as she tucks the money back into her wallet. "There has to be something. I…I can't let you leave without repaying you in some way. It'll bother me all week." she chuckles. "Do you like food?"**

 **A sly smile spreads across Emily's face before she pouts, bouncing her head from side to side.**

" **I can do food."**

…

 **A steady tempo of creaking mixes softly in the background of heavy panting as a few desperate whimpers are let out. Nails are dug into Emily's skin, raking her upper back before a hand climbs up to tug at her hair. Emily's tongue slides and flicks at a sensitive spot on the girl's neck as she hovers on top, meticulously thrusting her curled fingers back and forth – malicious strokes to make her body crave her very touch.**

 **The girl arches her back, pushing her chest against Emily as she gasps out. The sophisticated moist sounds along with a low growl rumbling from the bass of Emily's throat pushes the girl over the edge as her eyes roll shut, holding onto Emily for dear life. She orgasms for the fourth time tonight, watts of energy charging her body before it vanishes, leaving her breathless and exhausted against her mattress. Emily slowly pulls out, brushing the tips of her fingers against the swollen lips and sensitive clit before she brings it to her mouth, sucking her fingers delicately yet full of greed as she stares deep into the girl's eyes.**

" **You taste heavenly." Emily whispers her through a honeyed smile.**

 **With a small bead of sweat glistening her forehead, the girl lays there, trying to catch her breath. "I don't want you to think that I gave up my ass as a way to repay my grandmother's debt."**

" **Oh no, there was no debt to be repaid. We had food, just like you offered. But this…..this was just a nice desert for the night." Emily lowers herself for a kiss, allowing her to taste herself.**

Emily's eyes flicker open a few times before she closes them again. She's waking up. She didn't have much of a dream to go back to so she just lays there. Dreams have been an on and off relationship Emily has been dealing with for years. When she finally does slip into that portion of sleeping, it's usually a nightmare that eventually forces her up all night. Emily taps her fingers on her bed sheets before she rolls to turn on her back. Blinking several times up at her ceilings within the pitch black room she laid in, she takes a deep inhale through her nose and out her mouth.

Brand new 24 hours.

"Lucy, I'm up." Emily calls out, rubbing her eyes. "Good morning."

A few seconds passes by before a response came back.

"Good morning, Emily. How do you feel waking up today?" A pleasantly serene voice of a woman floats into Emily's ears as she now rose herself from the bed. With her hands pressed on the mattress and her legs over the edge, Emily ponders for a moment.

"I feel good. I think today is going to be a good day."

"I'm liking that sound of optimism this morning." Apparent sincerity within Lucy's voice sounds like she's smiling behind her words. "Let's start your day for you, shall we?"

Things begin to move all around Emily's master bedroom as the morning functions are activated. The motorized blackout shades gradually begin to open itself just a tad to let in the right amount of sunlight for Emily's awakening while she stretches herself out of the bed.

With the latest voice-activated technology being held by the reigns of Amazon with Amazon Echo, Emily was fortunate to get her hands on a system that few knew about and has yet to be placed on the market. Her connections and knowledge with the right people allowed herself something so advanced that only movies portray them as a product in the near future. However, that product was given to her as not only a present but as a test in order to see how it works and what features need to be fixed and added. Beta mode or not, this is one of Emily's favorite things about her apartment. It's like a personal servant that's in the mask of your best friend. Lucy knows exactly what Emily likes, how she likes, and when she likes it. It also helps that the system's voice was tuned to something easy and smooth to relax her. If Lucy had a higher pitch or was the male counterpart, Emily would have chucked it right back to where it came from.

She shuffles her feet against her purple silk, Persian rug on her way to her master bathroom with a yawn. With the vigorousness of last night and how late things got, she still carried that weight of tiredness into the morning. Normally, Emily would do her morning run to get her blood flowing but just the thought made her groan. Her main goal was to shower and start her daily routine before she catches the urge to crawl right into bed and sleep until 3pm.

Emily opens to the bathroom door where the lights inside are dim, gradually increasing in brightness for easiness on her eyes. She throws her hands on the sink counter and takes a look at herself in the mirror: a bit of bed hair to accompany her droopy eyelids that want to close themselves so badly.

Her sights drift down to her right arm and she can't help but stare. On her upper arm, right underneath her shoulder, she gazes upon the face she had inked seemingly without blinking. A little over a month ago, she added yet another addition to an open space in her "sleeve story", as she calls it. Five years past a life she once knew, Emily has adapted to new style of living – a lifestyle she grew comfortable into. From her entire right arm, down to her hands, and on various parts of her body, she's tattooed beautiful and intricate "storylines" – something she calls them as well.

It started out small, just getting a tattoo to cover an ugly scar she's had. As time passed on, it went from covering to creating and before she knew it, she had enough tattoos to surprise everyone who's known her as the humble and meek Emily from Rosewood.

And that was just when she was starting off.

 **Emily groans as her boots tap against the wood flooring on her way to the living room of her parent's Texas home. With Pam and Wayne following after her, she slides off her denim hoodie to be relaxed in her basic grey shirt. However, that created a drastically different atmosphere for her parents.**

 **"** _ **What the hell?!**_ **" Pam gasps in horror as Wayne eyes were wide and glued to her daughter's arm, both stopping dead in their tracks.**

 **Emily turns around in mid-yawn as she looks back at them. "What?"**

" **What did you do to your skin?!" Pam shrieks and points at Emily's arm. Emily glances down briefly before she shakes her head, taking a deep breath in before she plopped herself onto the couch. She had temporarily forgotten about the tattoos and the fact that her parents didn't know about them. It was no big deal to her, though. Just a couple of pieces she had done.**

 **Pam continued to sputter out an attempt to verbalize her misunderstanding of her daughter's newfound body art but it was something that left her speechless. She clutches onto her chest as she questioned Emily's untold decision with Wayne silently in shock himself.**

" **Emily, why would you do this to yourself?! Cover your beautiful skin like that!"**

" **Would you say this is as hard to grasp as it was finding out I was gay?" Emily twirls a strand of her hair around her index finger before she looks up at her stunned mother. "Is it up there in your top ten?"**

" **What? I don't…I don't even understand since when you thought this would be a good idea!"**

" **Or maybe top three..." Emily pouts her lips as she turns her face up to the ceiling in contemplation.**

" **One tattoo I could handle." Pam closes her eyes with her hands raised. "Maybe two. But you went above and beyond that! You look like one of those train cars that has graffiti sprayed all over it!"**

" **You'll live, mom. It's okay." a small smile rests on Emily's lips as she subtly rolled her eyes before she lands on Wayne. "It's self-expression."**

" **Well, how much expression do you need, Emily?" he steps up from behind Pam as he continues to stare at his daughter resting ever so comfortably before them. "I agree with your mother on this one. This…this is a tad bit excessive."**

" _ **A tad**_ **?!" Pam gawks up at Wayne before turning back to Emily. "More like** _ **extremely**_ _ **excessive**_ **! I don't even want to** _ **know**_ **if you have others where we can't see." she says as she shakes her head, waving her hands in disapproval as she walks off to the kitchen. Emily watches her mother's dramatics with a confused yet amused chuckle then goes to her father again who doesn't even know where to start.**

Emily bites on her inner bottom lip as her thumbs tap on top of the sink counter. Out of all the pieces she had, there is one she got that, oddly enough, she doesn't know the story behind. It's the one that held the most ambiguity to her. Almost like the cover of a book she hasn't read yet but knows is going to affect her in some way.

A woman covering her head with some kind of hood as strands of rich dark hair peak out and frame her soft face. Her eyes are trained in the distance with the color as electric and penetrating as blue flames on a gas stove.

With a hiss of a sigh, Emily brings her hands to her face and pulls down on her skin before she begins stripping out of her nightwear clothing, moving her way to the shower.

…

Emily steps into her kitchen and grabs her rose lemonade tea that was brewing while she was showering – set by Lucy. With a cup in hand and swiping a warm, half bagel from inside the food warmer nearby, also turned on by Lucy, Emily takes a bite of the fresh treat.

"Lucy, do I have any messages?"

"Would you like me to check your email or phone?" the voice surrounds Emily moving from the room now to the kitchen she stood in.

"Both, please."

"Alright." Silence replaces Lucy as Emily now takes a sip of the tea, smacking her lips afterwards, pleased. She listens to the read aloud recap of her emails, ranging from coupons notifications, promotions, to the average spam.

"This one reads from Farfetch." Lucy begins. " _Dear Emily Fields, thank you for your order – we hope you had a good time shopping with us. Your order grand total: $19,346.95. Your order #RWCZK30563 is now being processed, a shipping confirmation e-mail will be sent once your order has been shipped._ "

Emily nods as she leans her back against the counter. Her thoughts fly all over the place but temporarily settle on last night and the things that occurred. Everything went exactly how it was supposed to and she couldn't be any more content with herself.

"One text message from Peter L: _Never doubted you, Em. You always come through. Drinks on me next time!_ "

"Oh, they will be." she audibly comments.

"One text message from Harrison: _I'm not sure but I think if you ask her, maybe_. Four text messages from Illuminati, eye emoji: _I need you to come in early today, we have important things to go over. And don't say you never got my text because that phone is glued to your hands so I know you got it. BE HERE, EMILY._ _I'M SERIOUS!_

"What is she talking about? I never got a text about coming in early today." Emily rolls her eyes before she takes a bite of the last piece of her bagel. "So needy. Damn."

"You have also received a message from an unsaved local number. It reads: _Well…last night was memorable lol. If you're ever in the mood for some home-style Cuban cooking, you know where to find me, winking emoji_." Lucy recites the most recent unread text.

Emily laughs to herself, taking an apple crumb muffin from the heater this time. "Reply back: _I hope that hot, home-style, Cuban plate comes with a tall glass of you on the side._ Then add the….." Emily ponders briefly. "Add the speak no evil emoji then send."

"Did something happen last night with this unknown number, Emily? These texts imply rather naughty connotations…"

"That's for me to know and you to stress yourself wondering. Now, if you excuse me, Lucille, I have to get ready for work before I end up being choked at the door for being late." Emily mocks as she strides down her white marble floors to her master bedroom, tea in hand and apple crumb being stuffed into her mouth.

"Does this preparation call for your 'Gold' music playlist'?"

"Oh, you know me so well!"

…

Two honks sounds from the push of Emily's car lock button as she struts towards the front door of a two-story, black and gold designed office building. At first glance, one would think she was entering a high fashion store such as Givenchy, Tom Ford, or Giorgio Armani, however, this establishment was much more personal to her. Emily steps through the automatic sliding doors, the brief, cold air welcoming her as the first person she saw was a women sitting behind a front desk.

"Sunny morning, isn't it?" Emily removes her sunglasses and nuzzles it on the top of head as she continues to walk.

"Yeah, the sun pretty much blinded me leaving the house." the receptionist replies back with a small giggle of her own.

Emily immediately shields her eyes, stumbling backwards on beat after the girl's response. "Not as blinding as that smile! Talk about some serious competition. I'm going to have to make an appointment with my eye doctor now."

The receptionist bows her head in a shy manor with her cheeks starting to lightly redden, smiling harder than before although trying to hide it. Emily can't help but laugh at the bashful girl who was now waving her away. She continues on her path towards the back of the building, passing by and greeting everyone she walked past, employees and clients, as if she was best friends with them all. Finally hitting her destination, she pushes a button on the wall to open the elevator doors before her. Large, shimmering gold words take up the back wall of the elevator as she walks in, fluffing her hair.

 _Fields of Luxury._

She presses the golden "F" button that was next to lobby and the doors slid shut, sending her up to the second floor of her building. When the elevators open for her, the face of a young woman is the first thing Emily sees. She held up her phone with a large clock on the display screen while her expression stilled, unamused.

"It is 8:46am." she spoke. "I specifically texted you to get here _early._ "

"I didn't get a text." Emily shrugged as she walked past the girl.

"I knew you were going to say that! That's why I then sent, ' _And don't say you never got my text because that phone is glued to your hands so I know you got it.'_ " the girl stomped after Emily in her heels, rereading her message.

"Lucy must have accidently deleted it." Emily sighs as she throws down her bag on the white, pure Italian, leather couch. She looks back at the girl with a grimace and shoved her hands into her pockets before her eyes began to wander around the incredibly open, lobby-like space, hearing a soft rumble of bass.

"You're such a bullshitter, Emily. Your mouth just _spews_ bullshit when you talk."

"I was _tiiiirreeed,_ Jenna. Hang me!"

"You're always _tiiiirreeed_." Jenna mocked Emily, crossing her arms with her eyes narrowed. "That's your excuse every time you come in late. Especially when it's important! I told you-"

"Yes, and I'm here. So let's stop jumping on poor Em and let's start what we have to do, okay?" Emily walks up to her with her arms stretched wide, embracing a stiff Jenna before she gave her a kiss on her cheek. "Now, what is that noise I'm hearing?"

Jenna nods her head at a closed door, still keeping her eyes on Emily. Emily, however, moves past her in the direction of the muffled noise. The 2nd level of the building is like its own private lobby that has the offices of the people in charge. As Emily heads towards one of the offices, she has a pretty good idea of who could be behind the closed door.

She opens the door to be greeted with bass-rumbling music cranked up at high volume. A man dressed in a slim-fit, burgundy suit, rapping with his hands, dances with himself as Emily watches humorously from the door. The heavy hitting drums brings turns the office into a party of one as he has his back to her, facing the large window that holds a beautiful view of the city and the waters. The music continues to play on and Emily wonders to herself how long she's going to stand there watching this guy make a fool of himself without him noticing her presence.

When he spun around with a little flair, seeing Emily stand against the door frame with her arms crossed didn't shake him but only made him more excited. With his suit jacket unbuttoned and tie loosened, he strolls up to Emily with a wide smile and hands in constant motion as he pretends he's 50 Cent.

"I'm so forgetful, they calling me cocky. I come up out the jeweler, they calling me Rocky. It's the ice on my neck, man, the wrist and my left hand. Bling like _blaow_! You like my style? _Ha-ha!_ I'm heading to the bank right now."

Emily shakes her head as she pushes herself off the door, hand extended at him. "What is all this?"

" _Guess who just finalized a deal? Guess who banking 14 mil_?" he raps on beat with the music as he begins to two-step side to side with no care in the world. Emily's face remains amused but slightly behind before he heads over to the speakers he hooked his phone to in order to lower the music. He turns back to Emily with open arms and a face glowing brighter than the sun with his tawny-beige complexion.

"After busting my ass week after week trying to get somewhere with those people over at VCC, we finally locked in a deal!"

Emily slow claps at the news, although it doesn't personally affect her. It was his own private doings and she's known he's been at it non-stop so to know he landed somewhere, she was fairly impressed.

"Revenue next year is predicted to tick higher by 2.5% to $527 million, with profits up 5%. I mean, who better to get those numbers then Mr. Jefe, himself, ah?!"

Emily cocks her head at him, bouncing back to her face of confusion.

"That's what the guys call me down in Brickell." he pulls apart his suit jacket and dramatically tosses the ends back like a cape. " _Jafaar, el jefe_!"

"A boss?"

" _The_ fucking boss. Nobody can handle money like I handle money. Have a baby by me, baby, be a millionaire." he obnoxiously laughs with his tongue out as he slaps the side of Emily's arm. Jafaar sighs, stroking his nicely kept beard in pure admiration of himself. Constantly saying he's one of the top dogs of Miami, he can't help but to pat himself on the back every time he proves himself.

"Alright, _el jefe_ ," Emily taunts him. "You know, Jenna is getting on us for the so-called meeting she's setting up."

"I don't even know what the meeting is for, to be honest." Jafaar fixes his black tie back to professional standard. "If it's one of those evaluation shits she made us sit through last time like we were fucking kindergarteners going through our report cards, I'm not going anywhere."

"Oh, how much you want to beat you are going?" Jenna's voice floats from a distance right as Emily opened her mouth to respond. Emily turns around as Jenna walks up behind the two with a forced, tight smile on her face.

"And even if they were one of those 'evaluation shits', you specifically would be going because your performance, as of late, has been abysmal."

"…Did you not hear my celebration moment just now?" Jafaar points behind him at his office with his thick, manicured eyebrows scrunched. "How is my performance abysmal if I just snagged a multi-million dollar deal with VCC?"

"That was for your own personal gain, not for us nor this business. Let's not confuse lines here." she swiftly corrects his explanation which prompts an eye roll from him. "Now you two, Tweddledee and Tweddledum, need to hurry up because you're the only ones _not_ where they're supposed to be."

Without another word, Jenna spins on her heels and struts away. They watch her silently disappear behind another door before Emily glances back at Jafaar.

"You know you're Tweddledum, right?"

…

"Guess who just inked a deal worth $14-"

"Why do you have to speak whenever you enter a room?" a harsh, gruff voice cuts Jafaar off within an instant. "Why can you never just silently walk in somewhere without opening your mouth?"

Jafaar narrows his eyes with a displeased, wrinkled face at the rude man who sat the meeting room's table, picking at his nails along with another guy who kept his eyes on his phone. "Why do you always have to be a hater? I can't even breathe without you saying something to me." he scoffed.

"Okay. _Don't_. We do not have the time and I certainly do not have the patience." Jenna warns the two before they can start their daily bickering. Jafaar made sure to take a seat away from the high killer so he can mentally continue to celebrate his accomplishments. The man who was once picking at his nails now started biting them while he mindlessly surveyed the room behind his scowl. The long strands of his short, jet black hair falls into his golden, tanned face as hundreds of untamed thoughts race through his head.

"Now, first and foremost, when I speak, no one will interrupt me or utter a single word without being given the floor. I want to go through this quickly and painlessly because this is a lot." Jenna took control with a firm, authoritative voice as she passes everyone a tablet.

Emily pulls out a chair and sits comfortably by the last person of their small, five person group. With a quiet demeanor compared to the others, he flips his hoodie over his head and leans back into his chair as he slipped his light brown hand under the table, pulling back with a rolled joint. While Jenna began their short notice of meeting, he grabs his pocket lighter and strikes a flame to light his smoke. He sucks in a few puffs before his eyes drift over to the side of him. He gently nudged Emily with his elbow and once he got her attention, he gestured her towards his hand where he gave her an offer. Emily stares at it for a moment before she slightly shrug and accepted. She took the lighted blunt and put it to her lips where she took a deep inhale before passing it back. She held it in her system for a few seconds before she gradually let the smoke leave her nose and mouth.

"This came in last night. Which is also the reason why I have you all here right now. We are leaving for South Africa tonight."

"Talk about a short notice." the man takes his finger out of his mouth with a dry tone – a small trace of a Spanish accent mixed within. "What if we already had plans tonight?"

Jenna lifts her head with a tight face as if the guy offended her entire being. "Then you cancel it?" she shakes her head. "Honestly, what kind of dumbass question was that, Salvatore?"

" _South Africa?_ A favorite hotspot of mines." Emily slouches back into her chair with a slick grin and her arms crossed. "I'm game."

"The jet leaves at 2am." Jenna continues on, swiping the screen of her tablet. "And thanks to Salvatore's stunt last time, you all will be there by 1. We have just the basis laid out as of right now but by the time we meet up again tonight, we will go over everything thoroughly on the plane. If I were you guys, I would get some rest now because I'm not going to tolerate any sleepy eyes or nodding off – right, Emily?"

"Ay ay, captain" Emily salutes Jenna before she picked up her tablet as well and let her eyes scan over the open file.

"What's the length of this trip? Is this a quick job or more systematic?" Jafaar asks as he silently reads the brief details of the sudden expedition carefully.

"This is a three day job. Sent straight down from the higher ups. They expect nothing but professionalism and A+ quality results by the end of it all so this is highly important. Because they have their eyes on us, you better believe we're going to be on our toes the entire time. This is no vacation."

The room gets silent as everyone focuses on the new information given to them before Jenna speaks up again.

"Alright, so, go do what you have to do to prepare, pack, whatever. Just remember 1am tonight. We'll be fully briefed when we're in route."

Chairs begin to scoot back as the group rose to their feet with their tablets still in their grasp. They disband to their own spaces while Jenna and Emily start moving back to the main lobby of their floor.

"You might as well go back home and start sleeping now. I'm serious about you staying up, Em. If I have to repeat directions over and over again because you keep drifting off, I'm going to toss you right off the plane."

"Why do you keep pushing me around like you're my boss?" Emily asks with that ever-so-sly smirk reappearing on her face as she watches Jenna take a seat behind her glass desk. "I'm _your_ boss. You work under _me._ Do you see whose name is on this building? Does it say _Marshall of Luxury_? _Noooo_. It says _Fields of Luxury_. Those clients downstairs are clients because of what _I_ do for them. _I'm_ the top dog here."

"Yeah, you may be the boss, Emily, but you suck at it. And when I say it, I mean managing and everything that comes along with it. I'm the reason this place hasn't caved in and crumbled yet and you know this. You couldn't do my job for _one day._ " Jenna raises a finger with a taunting head shake." _Not one._ We would be raided within 13 hours if you did."

"Okay, I wouldn't say 13 hours-"

"You're right. Not 13. More like 4 hours tops."

"You are so _mean_ to me." Emily laughs as she walks around from the front of Jenna's desk, towards the white couch her bag occupied. "I don't get why. I'm the sweetest person you've ever known."

" _Mhmm_..." Jenna flicks a brow as she shakes the mouse of her computer to login. Emily threw herself onto the couch with a huff, swaying her leg side to side as her words were replaced with silence and keys being tapped on.

"….I had a dream about her again."

Jenna stops typing and swivels to the side in her chair to look at Emily. "Again?"

"I already hardly sleep as it is but it's like, when I do, it's either a nightmare or that stupid, ambiguous, reoccurring dream of her." Emily stares off into the distance, slightly shaking her head with her leg still moving restlessly. "Different settings and themes with the same ending – her watching me from crowds of people, me trying to catch up to her before she disappears and I wake up."

"What do you think this all means?"

"I dunno. But I feel like she's somehow apart of my life now. Some woman I don't even know." Emily chuckles under her breath as she looks down at her shoes.

A small smirk lifts the corner of Jenna's lips. "One woman of many, apparently."

Emily glances up at her with a light smile before Jenna turns back towards her computer and continues with her work for the day. Her eyes fall back on the floor as she sits within the silence. Her hand reaches up to her upper right arm and rubs the area where she had the face of "her" tattooed – the hooded, brunette woman with striking blue eyes.

She's been a part of Emily's life even though she doesn't know how or who she is.

…..

Walking down the steps with loud pop music being played through the speakers and the crowd cheering as loud as they can, Emily finds her purchased seat on the floor of the American Airlines Arena in-between a teenage boy wearing a Heat jersey and an empty seat. She keeps to herself as she gets herself comfortable when a vendor strolls down the side of the court, asking Emily if she'd like anything to drink. She orders a single cup of beer just to loosen up and relax before the game starts.

Despite being told to get ready for the business trip she has in an about seven hours rest and early, Emily had plans of attending a game with the tickets she brought a few months in advance and did not have any notion of dropping out last minute.

Miami Heat vs Golden State Warriors.

Living in the city and being interested in the sport, everyone attempts to at least snag tickets to a Heat game, whether a fan or not. Years back when Miami was put ruling the map as number one and one of the hardest teams to beat, going to a Heat game was like going to an exclusive party. Not only would big name stars show up on a constant basis but the electricity flowing through the arena as the Heat won game after game, with LeBron as the king of the island, made everyone want to be a part of it. And Emily was.

However, she wouldn't come to watch Miami play. Matter of fact, she never really liked Miami's team. Hailing nearly ten years back during her college days at Stanford, Emily became a California girl at heart. And in California, the state's residents are split by what teams you like. Do you like the Lakers? More of a Clippers fan? Warriors? Kings? Just this answer alone can make you either a friend or an enemy of a complete stranger. Watching the game with her friends, she always made the love for her team known: The Los Angeles Lakers – the ShowTime team. If going to a Heat game is like a party, going to a Laker game is an American Dream. But living in Stanford, that dream was a six hour drive and resulted Emily to watching games on TV. She did grow an appreciation for the Golden State Warriors who she could watch less than an hour away. All the love and time she put into this sport now just clouds her mind with remnants from her past. The celebrations, the house parties, Paige…..memories she hates tapping into.

While she still enjoys the sport, now she goes for more of a different reason then the college era of herself.

"Em!"

Emily turns her head to a guy smiling at her with extended, wide arms. She smiles back as she stands up with him approaching her.

"Where has the time gone?! How have you been? How is everything?" he speedily asks all in one breath while he briefly hugs her.

"Ah. It's going as it's always been. Always on the move." she responds back simply, still holding onto the half smile she wore.

"Good, good! It's been nothing but nice over here. Matter of fact, I was just talking about you the other day."

"Really?"

"Yeah! I was over at a little get together a couple days ago and I ran into Dwayne. We were having small talk and what have you when he brought you up, asking how you were. Then, he started complimenting about what a fantastic job you and your team did for his daughter's birthday party. He was telling me how important it was for her and how much she loved it, I mean he's wildly impressed by what you brought to the table since everyone kept mentioning you were the person to go to for those kinds of things.

"It's what do best. Nothing more, nothing less." Emily brings her cup of beer to her lips with her eyebrows raised. "Fields of Luxury."

"Fields of Luxury haha!" the acquaintance excitedly agrees. "I know that!"

After Emily resurfaced to be alive, shocking the entire country who mourned her death, many wondered what her next step would be. Would she continue to serve or will she find a calling somewhere else? Years later after hiding from the spotlight completely, with no interviews, tell-all books, or publicity of any kind, Emily made some waves when she emerged in the city of Miami with a new business. A luxury red carpet service that quickly became word of mouth. Using only the best resources and creating perfection with every appearance, Emily earned a name as the go-to when wanting to throw an event and really impress.

School wants to outdo the others and recreate the 1920's with a Great Gatsby themed prom that looks like the students are standing in Jay Gatsby's mansion?

 _Fields of Luxury._

Planning an outside wedding that you want to look like an ice wonderland, straight out of a fantasy wallpaper, in the summer?

 _Fields of Luxury._

Having a private and exclusive yacht party with Miami's finest and only want the best foods, most expensive drinks, best DJs, and everything else needed for a memorable party but are too busy to set up things yourself?

 _Fields of Luxury._

From hosting events with big name people to the everyday locals, Emily's business allows everyone to feel like a star at reasonable prices. She found a way to navigate the social shark tank and make a comfortable living while interacting and meeting all kinds of people – one of them being the man that her acquaintance was referring to. Dwayne. Dwayne Johnson.

For his eldest daughter's 15th birthday, he wanted to give her something that he knew she would enjoy. She's too old for the regular run-of-the-mill birthday parties and too young for more adult-themed parties so he and his wife needed help to find a common ground. _Something that a teen her age wouldn't find boring_ , as he mentioned. Talking to a couple people about his plans, Emily's name was added into the mix which prompted them to meet her and see what she was about. Bringing Jenna along with her, they learned everything they needed about his daughter before they sprung into work - Everyone on the team working on something that matches their specialties to bring this celebration to its fullest capacity.

When the final day came around and all the guests were told to arrive the a rented out establishment, the shock on all faces when the doors were opened and everyone was standing in a locale that resembled the inside of a real life Bob's Burgers building.

Not wanting a huge bash but a small, private get-together, the idea of recreating the setting of her favorite television show for her own costume, "house party" was a feat that was able to be accomplished with the right sources and a lot of imagination. From that night on, Emily and her team had gotten nothing but praise as they added another satisfied customers to their list. Not to mention, Dwayne dressed as Bob and cooking up their popular burgers was a comedy within itself.

The guy continued the small talk with Emily when a photographer approached them, asking for a picture. Before Emily could say anything, the man answered for the both of them, putting his arm over Emily's shoulder with a large grin for the photo opportunity. Emily held up her drink with a closed mouth smile of her own when the paparazzi flashed his camera for a picture that was most likely going to end up on twitter and other parts of social media before the night was over.

"Thanks, guys. Enjoy the game." the photographer nodded at them before he reached out for a courteous handshake to both and left without another word.

The arena announcer began his round of hyping up the crowd as the teams came onto the floor to begin their pre-game warm ups when the acquaintance offered Emily to join his entourage for the night. With a polite decline of wanting alone time, masked in the excuse of not trying to get wasted keeping up with them, they said their peace before Emily returned back to her seat and took another sip of her beer.

She needed to ease her mind of all before the early, overseas trip.

"Excuse me? Do you mind if I get a picture with you?"

A tap on her shoulder makes Emily turn her head behind her to see a teenage girl about 18 with her iPhone clutched in her grasp and a hopeful yet anxious face.

"I remember you from years back when I was younger and have always been inspired by what you've overcame and who you are now. You're like my role model and I was wondering, if I'm not bothering you, if you're okay with a selfie."

 _You're like my role model…._

Emily lips turn up with a small smile before she waved the girl over.

"Of course."

…

"Are you ready for your favorite girls?! Everyone give it up for your Miami Heat Dancers!"

The crowd erupts with cheers as the dancers align themselves in the middle of the court before the music starts and they begin their performance for the awaiting fans.

Emily cleans off her hands with a napkin, rips a piece of her pretzel, and dips it in her side of hot, melted cheese. She slowly chews on her ridiculously priced snack as the men around her whistle and clap at the girls while others either record or have their attention purely on their phones instead. Emily varies between eating and drinking when she locks eyes with one of the dancers. The girl's face brightens a shade lighter compared to her "performance smile" when she sees Emily in the crowd.

Emily winks at her mid-chew and casually leans back into her seat as she watches the show. The dancer keeps her eyes on Emily throughout, seemingly grinning harder than before, adding an extra pep in her steps and twist in her hips. Emily notices the subtle difference and keeps a trained face throughout, not giving anything off too fast.

As the minutes pass by and the last note was played, the dancer freeze in their various positions to signal the end of the performance – breathing heavily with a wide smile glued on their faces despite how tired they were.

"And those were 305's finest! Give it up one last time for your Miami Heat Dancers!" the announcer rallies the crowd as the girls waved and jogged to the sidelines to make room for the next act. Emily watches the specific dancer run off the floor when she turns back to find her. She nodded her head, put her hand to her mouth and blew Emily a kiss before she played it off by waving to everyone else she hurried past.

Emily couldn't help but drop her eyes and chuckle to herself right when another vendor walked past her.

"Excuse me?" Emily holds up her empty plastic cup. "Can I get another one of these? The mango wheat ale?"

…

Holding up in the back hallways away from the massive crowds leaving the arena in the front, Emily stands around with her phone in her hand, waiting. The minutes add up to ten and then fifteen as backstage, technical, game officials, and players pass by her as she stands around. The hallway empties out with no one around before the sound of a creaky door was pushed open. Emily turns her attention down the way when she sees a familiar smile slowly waltzing towards her.

Emily puts her phone in her pocket and slowly claps for the young woman who ran her hands through her full, dark brown hair.

"Brava…..Brava…..What a show-stopping performance from the one and only Alexis Rubio."

Wearing her black Heat logo bra under a small, red jacket and black, baggy sweats, Alexis runs up to Emily, jumping on her for an incredibly tight embrace.

"Hey, baby." Alexis squeals with happiness.

Emily laughs at the cute reaction. "Hey, baby"

She takes a deep inhale, almost allowing Emily's scent to flood her senses, before she leans back and kisses her on the lips. Emily's hand caresses the small of her back, touching her gently.

"Ugh, where the fuck have you been?" Alexis whimpers while she pulls away and begins to slide out of Emily's hold until she was back on her feet. However, her arms were still around Emily's neck and eyes looked up at the tall beauty in front of her.

"Not inside you, apparently." the words slip right out of Emily's mouth, gaining her a slap on the arm. "I've been working!" she quickly jumps to correct herself from the gasped look on Alexis' face. "Working 24/7. Always on the job, always on the move. Constantly working."

"You've suddenly gone ghost on me. You haven't replied to my texts, answered my calls…"

"And I know that. That's why I've decided to make it up." Emily's hands slide inside the red jacket and onto Alexis' warm, bronzed skin, her finger gliding up and down. "Here. In person. Just for you."

A twinkle shines in Alex's eyes as she cocks her head with an open-mouth smile creeping onto her face. "You came to see me?"

"Well, I certainly didn't come here to see any of the guys." Emily responds with an obvious tone in her voice.

"Are you sad that we lost?" Alexis slowly find herself becoming within a trance with Emily, like she always does, as she stroked the nape of her neck.

" _No_." Emily scoffs with a laugh. "I'm happy they lost. I just come to watch them lose."

"Well, I'm not. Every time they lose, we look bad."

"You looked pretty good to me. Win or lose."

"Really?"

" _Mhmm_ …" Emily's eyes shamelessly glance down Alexis's body as if she was looking at a menu of delicious options. "You seem to be getting a little thicker since the last time I saw you."

"Don't say that too loud." Alexis looks around at the abandoned, dim hallway for any signs of lurking ears. "My director would kill me if I've gained just one pound. She has us on this crazy, strict diet."

"But it looks so sexy on you." Emily's eyes fall back on Alexis with a low, lustful glaze to them as she feels her body being gradually awakened by Emily's tender touch.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Alexis smiles as she reaches up on her toes to kiss Emily again. She goes for a sweet kiss when Emily pushes for something more eager as she brings Alexis closer against her body. Although still at her place of work where she can be busted for the amount of PDA by her boss, there is a brief window of no care as the growing intensity of the kiss makes Alexis take a few steps backwards until her back was against a wall. After a few more moments of the two a few notches away from ravishing each other, Alexis looks up at Emily with a pout of her lips.

"I've missed you, Em." she says softly.

Emily stares down at her, raising a hand to smooth the hair out of her face. "I've missed you too, baby. Let's get out of here and go somewhere we can-" she lowers herself to Alexis' ear, whispering. "- _show how much we've missed each other_."

Emily slyly grins and Alexis bites the corner of her bottom lip as she lets her hand skim down Emily's stomach.

"Where?"

"Your place."

"We always go to my place-" Alexis goes to whine before Emily cuts her off.

"That's because your place is nice and comfortable and relaxing and somewhere where I want to do bad things to you." she lowers her voice once again as she leans in and begins kissing on her warm neck. "Hm? You're going to show me how much you've missed me?" Emily taunts as she goes from kissing to sliding her tongue across Alexis' skin. Alexis giggles from the contact as she grabs a hold of Emily's belt and pulls her pelvis into her.

"Okay, okay, okay." Alexis laughs, making Emily stop and hover right above her with a single brow raise, waiting for an answer. "My place it is then."

…..

A deep sigh slips from Emily's lips as she lays on her back, staring up at the ceiling. The faint sounds of opening, closing, and beeping sounds are heard faintly from a distance as Emily mindlessly blinks in the silent room she laid in. She turns her head and leans over to the edge of the bed to fish her phone from her pants that were tossed on the floor. Upon retrieving it, she props herself up, pulling the sheets to cover lower body, and unlocks her phone. She skims through her notifications briefly for anything that should have her attention before she opens her social media applications to scroll through.

Alexis walking through the door, wearing just a loose tank top as she takes a bite of her Subway sandwich, obtains Emily's attention and makes her put her phone to the side. "You made some for me?" she asks as Alexis hops back into bed, still chewing. She shakes her head and covers her mouth before she begins speaking.

"This was just a leftover I had from earlier." she rips a piece of her meatball sandwich and places it into Emily's ready and open mouth before she sits comfortably Indian style. "Having sex with you is like fucking cardio, I swear. _So intense_."

"Intensity is good." Emily snickers. "Who wants to go at a grandma pace when we can fuck _hard_? And _deep_. And _madly_." she leans into Alexis with every sentence, holding her eye contact. "With mind-blowing results every time. Sounds like my kind of sex."

Alexis nods her head as she drops her eyes back to her sandwich for another bite. "Well, your kind of sex is enticing, I can't deny that…"

"Of course you can't. I'm addicting. What's there not to like about me?"

"How absent you are, for starters. I mean, that can be listed as number one." Alexis licks the sauce off the corner of her lips. "For all I know, you could be fucking someone else while I'm over here texting you emojis and funny memes."

Emily's brows tighten as she rolls her eyes with a scoff. "Like you're not hooking up with other people when you're lonely and I'm not around."

"I don't, actually." Alexis glances over at Emily whose smirk dissolved from just her response. "I haven't been talking to anyone since the first time we hooked up, to be honest with you. Many people try but I just reject them because….I'm not interested in them or anyone, for that matter. You're the only person I've been seeing for the past seven months. I thought I made that kinda obvious by now."

Emily looks at Alexis who goes back to eating the remainders of her sandwich. The room gets quiet for an awkward moment with Emily not knowing exactly what or how to respond to that revelation. She looks down at the same moment Alexis looks over at her.

"But while I can list things I don't like, I think my list of what I _do_ like trumps that."

"Oh really?" Emily's eyebrow raises with the tilt of her head. "Like what?"

"The way you look at me when we're having sex." Alexis' hand reaches over to Emily's arm where she traces her assortment of tattoos with her fingers. Emily watches the movement of her hand skating against her warm skin. Alexis' eyes jump up to Emily's face where she watched her momentarily.

"Why did you wear contacts today?" Alexis curiously asks.

Emily gives Alexis a side-glimpse with her grey eye almost shimmering in the darkness of the room. Alexis stares back at her, patiently awaiting an answer as her fingers trail down to her inked forearm.

"Everything in life has its ups and downs. Moments when you like something, moments when you don't." Emily finally replies after a moment of silence as her head bows. "While some people think it's cool and edgy to have two different eye colors, sometimes it's just a constant reminder of me dying. The last moments of my life when I thought it was all over. So I put the contacts on to have a sense of normalcy. Is it a crime?"

"No. _Nonono._ Not at all. But….if that's the case, why not just do the surgery to get that normalcy back?"

"Because at the same time, this is a part of me. It's what I overcame. It's like a reminder that I can survive anything. But like I said, everything has its moments when you like something…and when you don't."

Alexis nods to herself, not saying anything but accepting Emily's words. Seeing her at the game, Emily had her brown contacts on that she would see her wear sometimes. As popular as she became as the girl with the two drastic eye colors, Alexis could almost feel Emily's dislike of being on display for people's curiosity. It wasn't everyday she would wear them, however. At the game Emily had her brown contacts but once coming back to Alexis' home, she slipped them off before they had sex….the feeling she had while under Emily's gaze was indescribable.

Being finished with her sandwich, she dusts her hands away from the bed and throws herself on the mattress, grabbing the sheets and covering herself as she cuddled up against Emily's chest. Emily wraps her arms around her as Alexis' hands start to wander again.

"You know….there is a carnival coming into the city this weekend. There's a lot of things that's going to be taking place…..really big and fun….not that expensive….and I was hoping that maybe….you'd want to go with me? You know….take some time out for yourself with all that work you're constantly drowning in."

Emily's brows raise as she sucks in her bottom lip. Her eyes dance around the room as Alexis's fingertips begin to carefully circle around one of Emily's nipples. She anticipates her response, labeling the silence as Emily trying to mentally work her schedule. She waits until the silence becomes almost uncomfortably long before she pops her head up to see Emily's slight grimace.

"Don't worry about it." she shakes her head with a forced laugh. "It was a stupid question anyways. I don't even know if I'd be able to go for sure. I…I shouldn't have even asked."

"I have this trip-this international trip I have to go on to finalize a business deal. Hopefully make the company bigger than Miami." Emily sighs with a groan in her low voice. "I have to leave in about an hour."

"Can I drive you there?" Alexis shifts her body to gaze directly up at Emily with almost hopefully eyes.

Emily inhales in a bit of air as she shakes her head. "It's not the airport. It's more of a….private strip."

"Oh right. " _Private_ "." Alexis slowly nods as she glances back down at Emily's bare chest. "It's probably banned from us poor people who have pathetic lives and don't drive around in fancy cars and wear fancy clothes."

"It kinda is." Emily shrugs. " _Sorry_."

Alexis gasps and shoves Emily away from her, making them both laugh. "Wow! You're such a fucking ass!" she swats her arm again.

…..

Getting there on time just as demanded, Emily arrives to the landing strip along with the rest of the gang and without any other delay, they took off on their private jet for their planned destination. Jenna briefed everyone on the itinerary and overall goals that needed to be completed during their stay overseas. The careless and laidback demeanor was left in Miami as Emily was all about professionalism and what was needed of her. With the 15 hour trip and the basis set out for everyone accordingly, Emily and her group check into a five-star hotel in Cape Town, South Africa – each one having their own suite (not without Emily jokingly insisting that she and Jenna share rooms). Everyone sleeps in for the night they arrived and wake up to meet up at Jenna's with their free breakfast that was provided with their stay.

"If this all goes as planned and they agree for phase two, Salvatore and I will be the employees. Emily and Andrei are the couple and Jafaar is riding solo as an admirer." Jenna writes the information down on her tablet which is connected to a Bluetooth screen that is set up on the room's dining table for all to watch.

"Maybe this time you can make it more believable, Em?" Jafaar points at Emily with his comb as he looks at her from the mirror that he's using to style his hair. "I know you're all anti-penises and whatever but for the sake of character and aesthetics…?"

"Last time wasn't planned and was _heavily_ improvised, thank you very much for your unneeded remark." Emily snaps back with half her mouth filed with a buttery croissant. "I did not get a heads up or anything when Sav decided to plant a kiss on me."

Into a magazine he was skimming through, hearing his name being brought up makes Salvatore raise his head to see Emily and Jafaar looking at him. "…She was making us look suspicions. What else was I supposed to do?"

"Kissing me was _definitely NOT_ one of the options."

"I'll put a leash on you next time and yank it back whenever you act up – how about that, huh?"

Before Emily was able to speak up again, Jenna intercepted before the crew got off track. "Well now, Emily, this is going to be all planned accordingly so you'll have enough time to _adjust_. As of right now, we just need to scout everything to make sure things are in the right places at the right time."

Andrei lays back on one of the recliner chairs with his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling as he intakes all the information being tosses around in the room. "Don't worry, Em, I won't kiss you." he adds with a small smile on his face.

Emily nods her head, half her mouth stuffed while she points a piece of her bread at Andrei. "Now that's what I call a _real_ man with _real_ integrity."

Making sure they were ready for their first of three days in the country, the group loads up in one of their rentals and sets out to tackle the first objective of the day. Taking the wheel, Jafaar drives them to a local café that was up and running serving their morning customers. Jenna and Emily hop out of the car and into the establishment, each ordering a drink and bakery good, before they sit down at one of the open tables.

"Let me get a bite of that." Emily simply states instead of asking as she reaches for Jenna's cinnamon roll when Jenna pulls back, giving Emily a glare.

"If you wanted it, you should have brought it yourself." she responds as she digs inside her purse with one hand.

"I didn't want it then but now that it's here and I smell it in front of me, I want a taste."

"Well, that's too damn bad, isn't it?"

Emily leans back into her chair with her drink in her grasp, wagging her finger at Jenna. "Don't ever ask for a piece of my food ever again."

Jenna ignores Emily's comment and slides her purse in-between her legs as she continues to fidget with her hands under the table. Unbothered, Emily sips on her drink, really tasting its sweet flavor as she smacks on her lips.

"Nothing like a nice and hot almond joy frap to run through your body on this chilly, South African weather."

Jenna's phone buzzes, causing her attention to divert to the message she's received. "Alright, you stay here. Keep your phone on so you can't "forget" that you got a message." she orders Emily as she pushes her seat back and stands up. Emily salutes in comprehension as she takes another sip of her drink. Jenna grabs her things and walks out the café, back into the passenger seat of the rental.

"How is it?" she asks as she placed her coffee in a cup holder with her napkin-covered roll resting on top of it.

"Everything is pretty solid as of right now." Jafaar hands the laptop he was in charge of to her where she rested it on her lap and brushed her hair behind her ears before she started typing away. Opening up another program, Jenna logs in and reaches for a chord in her bag that she connected from the computer to the vehicles aux chord where the ambience of the café flooded the speakers.

"First step: accomplished." Jenna rubs her hands together as the rest of the guys look out the window, surveying their surroundings. Jenna glances over her shoulder at Andrei as she slips an earpiece in her ear.

"Text Emily and tell her to begin talking so I can filter out all the noise and focus on her voice."

Andrei pulls out his phone and sends out a quick message, prompting to the whole car to hear her voice moments later.

"This place has the best almond joy Frappuccino I think I ever tasted. I feel like buying a gallon of this." Emily states to herself before there was a pause with a pleasurable sigh that followed after. "Good shit….good shit."

…..

"-and that was the time I was mistaken for a stripper at a senior home."

Jenna throws her head back against her headrest, rubbing her eyes in annoyance. "Can someone please tell her to shut up? We needed her to talk to test the system, not for her to do a story time."

"Speak for yourself - that was interesting as hell." Salvatore defends Emily from the backseat as he sucked on a pineapple chunk.

"I want to know what happened to the old man." Andrei adds in as well, slipping his fingers into the jar of pineapples Salvatore held. "Did he stay with blue balls or what? Because that is definitely something that would leave you with blue balls."

"You know, one time I had purple balls." Salvatore turns to Andrei. "Like actual purple balls."

"What the hell were you doing?"

"So, I was visiting a friend's farm-"

"Showtime! He's here." Jafaar cuts Salvatore's most likely disturbing story short and makes the entire car jump up from their laidback postures, their eyes landing on a silver car parking against the curb of the café. Andrei instantly shoves the fruit into his mouth, dries his wet fingers against his pants, and texts Emily all within a few seconds.

"Alright…..let's see what big boy has in-stored for us today." Jenna wakes up her computer and readies herself.

"What table did you guys even choose?" Jafaar asks as he peeps at his watch, seeing that everything was falling right on schedule.

"The one in the far back." her eyes doesn't even leave her screen as she begins typing again. "Where else would you hold a public meeting for safety yet a secretive meeting where no ears can hear?"

Jafaar silently agrees just as Emily causally walks out the café doors with a swift step, shades covering her face as she takes the straw of her drink into her mouth. She steps in the direction of the park rental and away from the entrance right as the passenger door of the silver vehicle opens and an older man steps out. While the man looked around on his way inside, Emily pops open the backseat door and slides in easily and discreetly.

"Everything set in motion?"

"Yes." Jenna answers. "And we're about to go live very soon."

The dashboard clock seems to speed through the time as the car stakeout continues for a half an hour after the first initial arrival. Within that time, as expected, another gentleman appears at the establishment and they pick the table closets to the back to speak - The microphone Jenna stuck underneath the table picking up every word. When it was let known that Emily & Co. had business to take care of overseas, the portion was correct. The man that was currently under their surveillance was Alfred Seymour – a former associate who went rouge and has threatened to release and share the secret of their organization. Since being a whistle-blower, he has disappeared into the distant location of South Africa, hoping nobody would find him. However, through an innocent slip up, his position has been exposed and he's been tagged ever since. A few days prior to their appearance, Alfred made an arrangement to meet with a man who was interested in what he had to offer. If his words were of any worth, he would give Alfred the green-light to meet with another man of a higher level, someone who certainly has the power to create damage.

And now it's the group's job to stop that from happening.

They listen to the men's conversation, each taking notes of the topics being shared as Jenna translates the Afrikaans language being spoken.

"They're agreeing to meet tomorrow at the museum- Whatiftheworld to talk…late….about 7, 8. They're both going to be guarded so we have no choice but to play this smart and discreet."

"Ek sal ook Alex S. Aguirre in kennis stel, wat ook by ons sal aansluit. Van daar sal ons u inligting uitruil-"

"Wait, wait. What did he just say?" Emily's interest was piqued as she leaned forward from her seat and rested on the back of Jenna's.

"Something about Alex Aguirre joining them and exchanging information." Jenna quickly answers back as she focuses on the conversation and types the key points of everything being discussed.

 _Holy shit…Holy shit!_

….

"NO." Everyone demands in unison.

"C'mon!" Emily huffs as she turns around, facing Jenna sitting at a desk with her laptop, Salvatore laying on his back on the bed, and Andrei sitting comfortably, legs spread on the couch as he rolls up a joint of weed. "I really don't see why not!"

"You are not taking that, Emily. That's final. End of discussion." Jafaar sternly makes his voice heard as he strolls out of the bathroom unbuttoning his dress shirt like a strict father. "We're here on one order and that's it. You will not only put us all in jeopardy but we will die if you attempt something of that caliber on an impulse. Something like that has to be planned. _Months_ ahead."

"But when opportunity strikes, you _have to jump it!_ Just think about how it'll be if-"

"Can you stop trying to suck your own dick for one second and listen?!" Salvatore angrily raises up, locking eyes with Emily while his roaring voice leaves everyone quiet. "Leave it the fuck alone! You're not going to sideline this fucking assignment because you want to play big bad fucking wolf, alright?! It's over!"

Salvatore drops himself back onto the bed, rubbing his eyes, as the room remains silenced. Emily shakes her head with a soundless scoff and backs herself into her wall where she rested against it, arms crossed. Jenna releases a deep breath as she adjusts her reading glasses before she goes over her notes again for clarity with their final plans. In the midst of her talking, Emily pulls out her phone. She tries to split her attention between Jenna and her screen but after a few minutes, Jenna's voice muffled into the background as Emily's eyes scans the words she stumbled upon. It wasn't long until she popped open her keyboard.

 _Syanide:_ [Serious] Offer Response. Requesting Video Chat

Emily stares at her phone for a few more seconds before she locked it and put her sights back on Jenna for the time being. Jafaar exits the bathroom and bypasses Emily with a plain white tank top and his button up thrown over his shoulders on his way to sit on the couch next to Andrei whose marijuana is gradually starting to fill up the room. Everyone engages in the conversation, throwing around ideas and alternative strategies as Emily stands by quietly. Occasionally, every few minutes or so, Jenna would glance over at her with a part of herself feeling bad that Salvatore blew up on her the way he did. However, Jafaar was right. They cannot afford to be sidetracked from a job they were sent to do.

A buzz in Emily's hand pulls her away from the group as her phone alerted her of a new notification.

 _Anonymous Server:_ Video Chat Request Accepted. Please allow up to 10 minutes for your requested party to join.

With this single message, Emily's interest immediately switched. She pushes herself off the wall, pocketing her phone, and begins strolling towards a chair that she threw her jacket on top of. Everyone's casually looks towards Emily's sudden movements until she slides into her jacket and grabs her keys.

"Where the hell are you going?" Jafaar is the first to ask.

"This is serious shit. Right now is not the time to fuck whores, Emily." Salvatore jumps in as well, staring at Emily with narrowed eyes and a tight forehead.

"Look, I don't tell you guys how to relax before a big game. Chill." she sighs, spinning around to face her friends with one hand on the door knob. "We've been at this for hours. I know every cue and position for tomorrow, we're fine. You're talking to a professional." she winks before she pulls open the door and strides right out, closing the door shut behind her and leaving everyone in a confused stupor.

Jenna gazes at the black door Emily had just walked through for a long, handful of seconds before she turned to the rest of the guys in astonishment.

"….Did she honestly just fucking leave?"

….

With all the lights cut off, Emily's hotel room is pitch black with just one source of light illuminating from her laptop in the corner. She sat patiently behind the screen, her fingertips tapping on the painted wooden table. Blinking several times to moisten her eyes prior to her using eye drops…she waits. Silently. Motionless.

 _Connecting…_ glows in white letters across the open window and Emily readies herself. An older gentleman appears on the screen, sitting in front of swaying green scenery in formal casual attire. Upon seeing Emily he freezes for a bit, visibly disturbed before he forces out an exhale of air through his nose.

"I've been told your presence….your presence certainly stirs up various emotions within people upon meeting face to face." a Russian accents accompanies the man's face. "Creates an imprint to remember. Looks as if they did not lie."

The man stares at Emily inquisitively. Before him was no woman but a face surrounded by darkness. An abnormally large smile that covered half of her face, teeth rotten and decayed within the blood red flesh of the mouth being yanked back to the ears by steel wires to create the homicidal and sinister grin that grabs your attention immediately. The bold, hook nose, pasty dead skin tone, and one blind eye with the other an intense green to match the wildly unkempt, short, green hair she wore, Emily gawks back at the man without blinking.

Her identity hid behind a custom-made New 52 Joker mask that sent chills down the gentlemen's arms every second that passes by with Emily silently staring at him.

"Isn't people remembering you the key?" words that are typed rather quickly at the bottom of the screen where a chat box was located gains his attention. "To be forgotten is a sure way of knowing that you failed."

He gives a small nod, his eyes kept low. "We all want to be remembered for something, yes."

 _Syanide:_ "That way we will never die. Even when your physical body dies and insects manifest within our rotted skin, our legacy is what's remembered."

 _Syanide:_ "Our presence."

The man's eyes flashes up to Emily just as she tilts her head, the terrifying smile fitting the unsettling atmosphere perfectly.

"Jesus…" the man mumbles to himself as he reaches for a glass and takes a swallow of some of its contents. He adjusts himself inside his seat and mentally reminds himself that he's the one in charge of this conversation. "You've requested to speak to me on an offer I've made available about Alex S. Aguirre."

 _Syanide:_ Yes.

"Well, this offer has been up for quite some time now. That only tells you that most have not been about to successfully accomplish its requirements. To cut straight to the point of both us being here, I want him dead. Not alive, not beaten, not barely hanging on, I want him _lifeless_." he exaggerates the last word with emphasis to show Emily how serious he was. "I want that son of a bitch to be a spirit somewhere in another realm. Do you understand what I'm asking for?"

 _Syanide:_ Yes.

"Now, I know about your track record, Syanide. I know all about you – we _all_ know all about you. You are someone who doesn't pussyfoot around. You get the job done, clean, and easy – 1, 2, 3. And to be honest here with you, I have to say that I was somewhat flattered to see your name pop up as a reply." he leans back into his cushioned chair, less tense than he was in the beginning. "With that being said, although you are impeccable with your craft, this hit will probably be the hardest assignment of your career. Top 3. And there's a 99% chance that you will fail. Many people have tried, many people have came up short. So….if you're serious….I'm going to give you by the end of this month to make something happen. 3.5 million dollars in the currency of your choice as your compensation."

 _Syanide:_ Rise it to 8 million and I'll have it done by this weekend.

The man's neck twists as he looks at Emily. "An extra 4.5 million for a few days? You're telling me that _you_ will be able to bump off Aguirre, aka Mission Impossible - the hardest man to find let alone hit for the past six years. That's one big pot of confident you're exuding right now."

 _Syanide:_ I understand your precautions towards such a big target but I don't think you realize, Mr. Mukhanov…

 _Syanide:_ I am that 1%.

"Well, shit. If you're able to pull this off as you say you will…."

 _Syanide:_ And I will.

"…Syanide, huh." he rubs his chin with a bout of impression at the sureness. Like said before, he knew all about Emily and her accomplishments. However, the mystery behind "Syanide" is that nobody knew who she was, adding to the "can't see" characteristic of her name. Everything she does has been calculated, silent, and with a high success rate. Within the years she came into the game, she created waves for herself with the high-profiled kills she nabbed under belt but one specific question always plagued people with the dark parts of society…

 _Who is Syanide?_

"Name fits you well." the man continues on, still stroking his face. "But you got to get rid of that clown mask, man. It's creepy as shit."

 _Syanide:_ "But you won't forget me :)"

"Unfortunately not. Alright, I'll raise you. 8 million for this weekend _BUT…._ if you don't deliver like you said you would by this weekend, deal is completely off. You don't get until the end of the month. It's all or nothing."

 _Syanide_ : If you know me so well, then you'd know that's all I need.

…...

Freshly showered and fully dressed, Emily decided to spend her night out in the lively Cape Town streets instead of her room. She bar hops for about an hour before landing in a thriving club, dancing behind an olive-skinned redhead that has been working her attention ever since she's arrived. With no hesitation, Emily tests her luck to see how far she'd let her go with her hands roaming places on the stranger's body that would get her in trouble if not accepted. The actions do not go unnoticed but yet encouraged as the redhead makes her move to kiss Emily in the back of the club. They lose themselves in a drunk yet heated makeout, ignoring all those around them and Emily ignoring her responsibilities of resting in for the night. After a while of expressive PDA, the redhead pulls away from Emily's eager lips, brushing her mouth by Emily's ear.

"I want to get out of here, Emily." she breathes as her fingers trail down Emily's white blouse that has a few button open at the top to show her chest.

Emily's hand caresses the redhead's thigh, slowly hiking their way up her skirt. "Anywhere you want to go, baby. You lead the way and I'll follow."

"I have to use the bathroom first. Meet me in outside in the front and I will see you there."

Emily nods in affirmation, poking her lips out for one more kiss before the girl left and Emily gathered her things - stopping at the bar one last time for a quick shot. The nippy breeze of the night cools Emily's skin from the hot and stuffy club as she posts up against the bricked wall of the establishment. She flips her wrist for a glimpse at her gold, diamond Rolex to have some kind of awareness of the time.

 _2:12am_

She sighs, resting her head against the wall. The incredible wave of horniness was driving her body at this point of the night and she couldn't help her eyes following every woman that passed her by. Although the lusting was short when the redhead walked out of the club with a friend in hand.

"And this is Emily. _Americano_." the redhead introduces her to her apparent female friend with a flirty lip bite as she attempted to discreetly raise her finger up to her eyes.

"Hello, there." Emily steps towards the girls with an alluring smile. The redhead walks towards the curb to wave a taxi while Emily politely extends her hand to the friend who gaves a handshake back in return before her eyes fell to Emily's forearm that was exposed from her rolled up sleeves. Her hands glide up and strokes Emily's tattoos, touching her skin carefully as she lets out a remark in her native language.

She glances up to look at Emily "I like your tatto-" the words get stuck in her throat as she makes direct eye contact with Emily up close. From a distance, next to the club wall, the shadows hid Emily's features but as she stepped into the luminosity of the streetlights, everything became noticeable.

"What's your name, beautiful?" Emily asks sweetly as the girl continues to gaze into Emily's eyes in a trance-like stare.

"Her name is Perri." the redhead approaches the two with a cab now awaiting for them and puts her arm around Perri's shoulders. "And….she wants to fuck you too."

With wide, amazed eyes, Emily looks back at Perri with her mouth left partially open in shock.

"Is this true, sweetheart? I hope Amelia didn't coax you into doing this..."

"It was my idea, actually." she spoke up through her soft voice as her and Emily's hands started to mingle and intertwine on their own.

"This was _your_ idea?"

" _Mhmm..._ "

Emily peers over at the redhead who gave her a playful shrug in return to the proposition, waiting to see her next move.

"Well….luckily for you, I have a thing for blondes."

 **She's survived military training. She's survived the ambush of her team. She's survived the first torture of her capture and she's survived the additional three months of being left for dead.**

 **Somehow, she's survived.**

 **But at what cost?**

 **This update opened quite an amount of reveals and eye-openers that it might take a second read to put parts of the puzzle together and gain an idea of what happened to Emily during five year time jump. Can you guess all the differences between Emily's and what happened to her?**

 **I appreciate the patience you all have had with me and I hope that I do not let you down. We are going back to the swing of things, ladies and gents. Alison was originally going to be in this chapter but then I decided that this update was long enough and would just be info dumping if I tried to add anything more. From a storytelling perspective, I think it's a good idea for you guys to swallow and digest who exactly Emily Fields is in today's world. And who exactly is Alison getting herself into with when they cross paths next chapter…**


	6. Chapter 2: 50 Shades of Red

**You love them and I love casting them: OCs to get familiar with.**

 **Jenna: None other than Tammin Sursok**

 **Jafaar: Shahzad Noor**

 **Salvatore: Nir Lavi**

 **Andrei: Isha Blaaker**

 **Also, for clarification for those who ask whether Emily is a killer, assassin, or agent: Emily is a contracted killer, also known as a hitman. An assassin is more of a person who kills political figures such as the people who killed JFK, MLK Jr, and Lincoln – they would be considered assassins. She isn't much of an agent because agents are people who strictly kill under orders of their superiors. They do not move unless told to. While Emily does get assignments from her superiors, she makes most of her living responding to other people's requests. It's almost like signing up for the U.S. National Guard. You're a part of the military but only when needed, you still need to find a regular job to make ends meet.**

 **I'm excited at the reactions to Emily's new lifestyle. The Emily we once knew is long gone and the Emily we're left with…..well, she'd like you to learn a little bit about her.**

CHAPTER #2: 50 Shades of Red

 _Italics means thoughts, emphasized word or action._ **Bolded is a flashback.** (….) is an indication that time has passed.

 **Relaxed and slow breathing. Steady and gradual movements. Full control of the weight on her feet. She creeps up the carpeted stairs with her socks with one foot at a time. There was no need to rush. She had enough time. Making sure she was light on her toes, she avoids the possible loud creaks and groans stairs make in the middle of the night. She reaches the top to stand on the second floor that was also carpeted. She never understood the popularity of a fully carpeted house. All it takes is one accident, one spill of your drink, a drop of hot ash, a shit from a dog and it's ruined. Constant cleaning that you could have avoided if you had just opted for hard flooring.**

 **She inches herself down the hallway with every step she took. Doors were closed except for the bathroom which was completely dark inside. Everything is still and soundless. She finally gets to the end of the hall where she stood before a brown wooden door. Her hand touches the cold, gold painted knob, fingers wrapping tightly around its shape, and twists ever so gently with her other hand flat against the door.**

 **The door opens quietly and exposes her to a dark room that took her moments her eyes to adjust. The high whirling of a fan creates a soothing ambience for the master bedroom she silently took a step into. Her sight is locked onto the king sized bed as she watches the married couple peacefully sleep on their respectable sides. The husband on the left towards the bathroom and the wife on the right, closest to the window. She stares at them for what seemed to be minutes, just fixated on the possibilities if she acted on her impulses.**

" **Gracie?" a little boy's soft voice called out.**

Emily's eyes shoot open to see a blue tint slashed across the ceiling. She blinks several times to get a bearing of where she was before she glances to the side to see the blue light among the darkness peeking from behind the curtains. She takes a silent sigh and stares back up at the popcorn white ceiling, slowing her breathing down. It wasn't long before her eyes start wandering again, this time landing on a night stand beside the bed.

Rubbing her fingers against her eyes, she leans her body to stretch her arm towards the night stand when another body shifted more towards her in their slumber. Emily grabs her phone and rolls onto her back again as the bed moves slightly. With one on her stomach and the other on her side, Emily and her late night duo laid naked under the sheets as she rested awake in the middle.

Many hungers were satisfied as the girls fucked Emily like they had something to prove. And she did not once complain. She felt like it was the perfect solution for getting all her knots out to be seamless for today's later event. Plus, how could she say no towards such an opportunity of pleasure? Sexing one girl is always a win but with her friend too? A blessing.

 _6:21am_

Emily unlocks her phone and pulls down her notification bar. A particular new message gets her attention right away.

 _Today 4:52am_

 _Mama Fields:_ Cape Town?! That's amazing! Wow! I hope whatever you're doing over there works out although I'm not too sure what business would call you to Africa. But you know more about the industry than I do so you know what you're doing! I hope you have fun! Please be safe, sweetie. I love you! Make us proud! Xoxoxo!

Emily taps her finger against the back of the phone and rereads the message again before she responds.

 _Emily:_ Business is moving along great. It's all about networking and expanding. I'll be sure to get you guys a souvenir before I leave. Love you.

She locked her phone quickly and placed it on her chest, with her hands in her jet black hair. Her mind skims into work mode as she thinks about the first order of her long and crucial day. She lays there still for a few minutes before she grabs her phone and rises up, crawling out of the sheets down the middle of the bed to fetch her clothes. She debates if she should shower here or at her hotel - the latter being the obvious choice, later realizing her wanting to stay was just a hopeful thought of maybe having a morning quickie before she leaves. However, she settles with watching the girls sleep as she tossed on her clothes.

 _Lucy….remind me to find these girls again before I leave back to the states,_ Emily mentally tells herself.

 _Of course, Emily. It has been noted,_ she responds, imagining Lucy's voice.

...

"She is beautiful, isn't she?" Andrei beams at Emily with a lip bite as he held her close by her waist. "Sometimes I wonder how the hell I ended up with such a catch."

"Sometimes I wonder that myself." Emily sly replies causing everyone to laugh, including herself. The woman placed her hands behind her back as she bowed her head, still with a warm smile.

"You two are a beautiful couple. Happy anniversary."

"Thank you." Emily and Andrei respond at the same time. The woman walked off, leaving the two still in each other's hold.

"I feel like fucking Cruella de Vil, I don't know why." Emily mutters under her breath, dropping her blissful act. "I still cannot believe you whitewashed me."

"Well, nobody told you to have such prominent Asian features. What would you have rather me do? Give you blackface?" Andrei casually turned Emily around and walked her towards a display piece. "Besides…what I did to you? It's art. You should be standing on that platform over there and posing for the masses."

Emily and Andrei pretend to admire the piece before them as a married couple in the eyes of the public. Sneaking back into the hotel without getting caught and scolded by the others, Emily had about 20 minutes to herself before she had to report towards Andrei's room for their version of 'hair and makeup'. With the level of their assignment, nobody directly involved, especially Emily, can afford to walk around as their normal self with all kinds of identifications that point to them. The men were fairly easy to disguise with fake facial hair and hairpieces while Jenna could get away with a simple wig and contouring of her makeup. Emily, however, had to undergo a full transformation due to her appearance. With the help of Jenna, Andrei sprung into his artistic mindset and worked to change Emily's usual look towards something that didn't appear as much as "her". From covering her tattoos with makeup to giving her a honey blonde, medium bob wig, Emily was transformed to "Jackie Lynn" – a caucasian tourist who was married to a black man named Bryan Lynn.

"I love visiting international art museums…" Andrei begins as he examines the work in front of him. "Each country shows their own view of the world around them, each through different forms and it just….talks to you."

"Yeah, I guess….." Emily couldn't of made her disinterest anymore clear by rolling her eyes in another direction, checking out their surroundings. "Speaking of, my bladder is talking to me right now. I'll be right back."

Emily disbands from Andrei who urges her to hurry and not wander off. Although he wanted Emily in place for their mission, Emily had her own she needed to be standby for. As she walks out of sight, she mutes her earpiece and begins to casually stroll through the museum, keeping her eyes peeled. After about ten minutes of walking in, standing around, and walking out sectioned areas, her heart thuds against her chest as she spotted the man himself. In the flesh.

Alex S. Aguirre. Heavily guarded as expected.

She plays it cool by taking a few steps backwards from their vision and prepares herself. Pulling out a mirror from her bag, she reapplies her pink matte lipstick, combs her fingers through her wig, and adjusts her breasts to make them more visible in her small blue dress with a plunging neckline. One deep breath for the road and Emily meanders into the same exhibit as her target, disguising it with curiosity for the art. She takes her sweet time getting close enough to him so it doesn't seem too sudden or suspicious.

"I love visiting international art museums…" Emily strikes up a "harmless" thought with an altered accent as she keeps her eyes on an enlarged photograph. Aguirre takes a side-glance at Emily through his dark shades, saying nothing back in response.

"Each country presents their own view of the world around them, each through numerous forms and it just…. _talks to you_." she shamelessly continues in order to get some kind of reaction out of him while a couple guards look over their shoulders at her. The accent was an improvised thing and hoped she was nailing it right. She didn't know why her brain went up north but she decided to keep with it.

 _Keep it up. Remember to keep it enunciated and posh. Keep it….keep it Kiera Knightley._

There is a silence after Emily stops, making her feel like a fisherman on his boat, waiting for a bite on his bait…

"And what is this saying to you?"A harsh, smoker's rasp finally pipes up.

Emily looks over at the piece Aguirre stood in front of, making his responded question an excuse for her to get closer to him.

"Well…..this one tells me one is trying to submerge themselves. In the first sculpture, it looks like he's trying to fight it – how parts of his body is embedded into the wall but he's resisting. Then, the next sculpture shows him sort of embracing the submerge, giving his body into the white wall, drowning himself and giving full control to the world and where it's going to take him." Emily looks at Aguirre. "Accepting and submission."

Aguirre nods slowly, seeming to take in her interpretation of the wall art.

"You travel to look at art?"

"I try. Wherever, whenever I can. It's very cathartic."

Aguirre turns to Emily, showing an aged scar across his left cheek. Upon the glance, she smiles. Almost like an invitation.

...

"Has anyone seen Emily?" Off in a corner, Andrei speaks into his hidden shirt mic.

"She isn't at her mark?" Jenna responds back through his earpiece.

"No. I haven't seen her in like half an hour."

"What the fuck?" Salvatore is heard through a hushed yet aggravated breath.

"Wait, so you guys mean to tell me Seymour is on his way in and Emily is _not_ where she's supposed to be?" Jenna's voice drops to a serious snarl as her impatience rises with every word.

"She told me she had to use the bathroom. Maybe she had a malfunction or is held up in some mundane conversation with one of the locals-"

"Mundane my _fucking_ ass. Why is her piece off! Andrei, find your _goddamn_ wife! She is your responsibility!"

" _Shit_ …" Andrei rolls his eyes as he turns around and began walking, now being derailed with searching for Emily like she was a five year old in Chuck-E-Cheese.

"Apologies, Seymour, Mr. Aguirre will be with you shortly." one of Aguirre's men assures Alfred of the meeting they are scheduled to have.

Jenna attempts to walk up to the men in their secluded area when she is stopped by the guards standing watch. Playing her double role as a museum employee to the men but a part of the men's circle to the museum employees, she simply lifts her hand where she palmed a small, silver platter with two glasses of champagne. The guards turn and get the two men's attention, asking if they asked for drinks. Before they could answer and turn her away, Jenna speaks up.

"From Mr. Aguirre."

Seymour glances over at Aguirre's fellow who hesitates for a moment before waving Jenna towards them. The guards step to the side and allow her inside. Salvatore walks by, noticing that Jenna passed the first stage, and walks towards the back of the museum where the restrooms were located. Hidden behind the door, Salvatore, in also a double role, swoops down, grabs a caution sign, and places it in front of the men's restroom before he strides inside. With a "Cleaning in Progress" indication, this keeps the bathroom empty for the next step.

Salvatore checks underneath the stalls for total emptiness and calls it in. "Restroom is sealed off."

"Truck is running and in position." Jafaar responds back as he sits in the driver's seat. "Has anyone found Emily yet?"

"Negative. Still searching." Andrei answers.

Jenna bows her head at the gentlemen and hands them each their champagne, respectively. They both accept it with a gracious nod.

"Did Mr. Aguirre say when he will be joining us?" the fellow asks politely, staring at this unfamiliar face through her glasses.

Jenna scrunches her nose with a head shake, her mind thinking quickly. "He said to be finishing up something. He gives his apologies and says he will come as quick as he can."

"Perfect. Thank you." the man acknowledges, dismissing Jenna before he turns to Seymour with a little laugh. "He's a busy man as you can tell."

Jenna walks swiftly away from their area until she was out of earshot where her soft smile changes into a scowl.

"She's with him."

"Who is she and with who?" Salvatore replies.

" _Emily_. Emily is with Alex Aguirre. They're both missing."

" _Shit!_ "

" _Fuck!_ "

" _Are you fucking serious?!_ "

...

"You know….I know of a great place with artwork. Exclusive art. Expensive art. Art you won't see presented to the public." Emily's eyes bulge with amazement and wonder as Aguirre keeps his lips twisted in a half smile. "But I don't know if I should show you…"

"Why not?!" Emily pushes with enthusiasm.

"Because if I do," Aguirre steps to Emily, face to face "I may have to kill you."

Emily giggles at the intimidation tactic and shakes her head, holding her picky high up in the air. "I can keep a promise, I swear my heart on it." she smiles greatly at him. Through his shades, Aguirre stares at Emily's well rounded breasts as she lightly bounced on her toes. Playing her cards right, knowing exactly how men can become so distracted, Aguirre distanced himself away from his guards in order to stroll outside in a field behind the building and try to use "Jackie's" gullibility against her to lure her.

"You are a very beautiful woman, Ms. Lynn."

Little did he know Emily was the one luring him.

" _Please_ , call me Jackie."

"Jackie…" he drags out the name almost sinister-like. "You are a very _sexy_ woman….and I've seen sexy women in my time. But you…..I have someone who could put you in a painting. Would you like that?"

"In a painting?" Emily cocks her head in a naïve way with a matching innocent voice.

"Yes."

"Why….why, I would love that, Mr…?"

"Call me Mr. A."

"Well, Mr. A," Emily drops her eyes to the ground as she kicks some grass with the front of her heels, adjusting the purse strap on her shoulder. "I've always imagined myself in a painting since I was a little girl."

"And I can make that happen. All you have to do is come with me and I'll take you there." he tries to coax her by gently grabbing her hand and placing a firm kiss on it. Emily's insides prickle at the contact but her face is pleased and soft. She teasingly pulls away with a step back, really examining this man's stature.

"….Do you like things with stories behind them, Mr. A?" her eyes narrow subtly as her mouth is left partially open with the ending of her question. "Things with history?"

"I actually happen to, yes." he puts his hands in the pockets of his charcoal grey pant suit.

Emily continues to slowly walk backwards, pointing to a deserted structure right across from them. "Do you know the history of this abandoned building here?"

"No…but I have a feeling you're going to explain it."

Emily smiles with a blink of her green eyes before she turns around, looking over her shoulder as she begins to strut away. " _Follow me_."

...

Jenna stares at an artwork mindlessly as she thinks of 236 different ways she's going to kill Emily when she sees her just when Seymour is seen walking out of his exclusive area fixing his suit with another large man following behind.

"Approaching with one extra. 20 seconds." she mutters into her mic. And like clockwork, keeping the restroom empty, Salvatore opens the door and removes the sign before he slides himself into one of the stalls. On cue, Seymour and his guard enter the facility.

"Have to piss like a horse, _shit._ " Seymour comments aloud as he unzips his pants and stands before a urinal. Seconds later, Andrei pushes through the door, pretending to be startled by the guard.

"Hello." he greets him with his brows raised. Seymour briefly glances over at Andrei before he went back to his business. Andrei pulls up to the urinal right next to him with a large sigh as he, too, began to unzip.

Instantaneously, a toilet is heard flushed and the stall door swings open where Salvatore causally reveals himself.

"Huh. Looks like a full party in here." Seymour exhales through his nose for a chuckle.

"Yeah and you're the lucky birthday boy." Salvatore lifts up his hand and squeezes three bullets out of his silenced gun with a rapid pull of the trigger. The guard gets hit in the chest with each shot and stumbles against a wall before he could think his next thoughts. Mid-piss, Seymour's whole body shakes at the sudden encounter and goes to yell out when Andrei grabs the back of his head and forces it against the bathroom wall in front of him, knocking him completely unconscious.

Aguirre walks into the abandoned building as Emily sweetly tells him a made-up story. Touching the broken and decayed walls with her hands and setting down her bag, she allows him to walk in front of her, looking around at his surroundings.

"And how did you hear about this building, sweetheart?"

"It's actually…..where you're going to die."

Aguirre turns around when he is whacked across the face with iron pipe that was left in the corner, spinning him like a dreidel. His sunglasses flew one way as he falls to the hard, cool ground with a thud. After her late night activities, Emily didn't go back to the hotel right away. Instead, she decided to do some scooping of her own, checking out the best isolated area she could bait Aguirre to and made sure there were objects around that she could use to her advantage. She throws the pipe to the ground and lifts up her dress, revealing a thigh holster at which she rips out a sharp, long, spear point knife.

 _This is too easy…_ , Emily laughs to herself as she approaches the groaning and pained man. When close enough, Aguirre rolls over and fires several shots in Emily's direction, causing her to quickly react and duck out the way. She scurries down a hall where he continues to shoot hastily at her until she enters an empty yet fully broken down room. Breathing harder than usual, she kicks off her heels, rips off her wig, and quiets down, readying herself for a life or death fight.

"Guard is down, Seymour is down." Salvatore speaks into his microphone as he and Andrei stand over their target laid out on the floor with his penis hanging out of his pants, urine all over.

"Cocks out for Harambe." Salvatore shrugs as Andrei stupidly laughs at the foolish mention, pushing him to the side.

"I got his arms and legs, that's all yours right there."

"Why mines?"

"Unless you want to lug the man out to the van with his dick on your shoulder then dealing with it out and about on the ride."

"I think it'll be funny, actually." Salvatore slyly smiles as he looks at himself in the mirror, smoothing back his black, gelled hair. "Him waking up with all of us looking at him in the back of the van with his dick out. He'd probably think he's in one of those porn vans and someone is about to suck him off. Imagine him getting hard because of that-"

"Can you shut the hell up? And just do it?" Andrei stares crazily at his partner, pulling the duct tape from his suit jacket. He presses his microphone to signal everyone. "Anything on Emily yet?"

Emily peeks from behind the doorway of the room she was in and takes a look down the hallway to see Aguirre struggling to his feet from the attack. The gun was discarded to the side, possibly out of bullets, and Emily knew it was her chance to strike again. She first silently slinks until she switches to full blown charging with her knife in-hand. Aguirre turns to face Emily with his arms up and jerks his head out the way from her first attempted assault, then returning swift and powerful kick to her mid-section that forces her to stagger back, tripping on her feet.

Aguirre steps towards Emily, dragging back his suit jacket and pulling out a black grip handle. "You want to dance?" he flings down his hand for the handle to extend into a steel, expandable baton as Emily prepares herself in her fighting stance with her knife tightly in her grasp.

" _Let's dance_."

...

Through the restroom window, Andrei and Salvatore work together to hull Seymour out of the building quietly with the dead guard positioned slumped against the door. Jafaar sits in the getaway van impatiently as they enter and close the back door with Jenna hopping in the passenger seat.

"Where the FUCK is Emily?! Jesus Christ!" Jenna slams her hands on the car dashboard, teeth gritted in anger. She yanks the wig and glasses off her face and hurls it at the windshield before she runs her hands though her unrestrained hair. "I'm going to fucking kill her."

"Not if Aguirre kills her first." Jafaar shifts his eyes all around him for Emily, police, Aguirre, his men, or anyone else that would need their immediate attention.

"We're giving her five minutes. If she's not inside this truck by then, we're leaving her ass." Jenna orders as she lifts her laptop bag onto her lap and proceeds to take out her computer. Andrei and Salvatore share an apprehensive exchange before Andrei looks away anxiously.

" _Come on_ , Emily." he mutters under his breath, almost trying to send some kind of telepathy signal. "We gotta go, hurry up."

Emily and Aguirre go back and forth, blocking and dodging each other's strikes. Emily wasn't surprised that she had her work cut out for her in the hand-to-hand combat. Aguirre wasn't hard to kill just because he knew how to hide. He also could hold his own if it came down to it. And today was that day. Only one of them was going to survive this fight.

In fast attacks, Emily manages to slice Aguirre's upper arm through his jacket. The clean cut makes him yell out, holding in arm in pain. Emily lunges for him when he lashes his injured arm and whips the steel baton right across Emily's chest. She folds over from the brute force just to be met with a vicious knee to the face, crumpling her to the ground with the wind knocked out of her and knife out of her grasp. When she saw him pull out the baton, she thought it was a regular weapon that most fighters use. However, when the metal made contact with her body, she realized she made a huge mistake with such assumption.

Emily feels fast, warm liquids trickling down from her nose, touching it briefly before her eyes notice another incoming strike and succeeds to roll out of the way just in time. She throws her hand to grab her knife again when Aguirre cracks the steel at her wrist. Emily cries out, opting to use her left hand to reach for the knife instead. With no time to waste wallowing in agony, she quickly jumps back to her feet, having slight dizziness for a moment's time. Aguirre runs up on her again, swinging his baton when Emily crouches down to escape his blow and thrusts her knife deep into his thigh. As he bellows out a loud shriek, completely stunned, Emily whirls her body around, her right leg cutting through the air, and connects her heel to his jaw with a violent spinning wheel kick. He falls straight on his back like dead weight as he's knocked out cold before he even hits the floor.

"They're going to realize Seymour's been gone and it'll be seconds before they go look for him and see the dead guard." Jafaar bounces in his seat as he checks his rear view mirror again for the eighth time in 60 seconds. "We are pushing our time just by sitting here. We would have been halfway gone by now!"

Emily yanks the knife out of Aguirre's thigh, panting heavily as she babies her wrist that felt like it was broken. Standing by him for a moment, she climbs on top of Aguirre, twirling her knife in her hand. She briefly stares down at him with a curious lean before she aggressively slashes his throat, blood spattering everywhere, including on Emily.

" _Hmm_ …." she carelessly places her knuckles under her chin as Aguirre gurgles underneath her. "Something is missing here. Doesn't quite have the Syanide touch….."

...

"Oh shit, they're moving towards the bathroom." Jenna alerts the vehicle and in that same second, everyone stretches over to look at her computer. On the security cameras she disabled while they were inside, they all watched absorbedly as a guard walks to the male bathroom. He pushes on the door just for it to hardly swing open like it's supposed to. He uses his body weight against it to force it when the dead figure against it fell to the side. Upon the grisly sight, the guard runs back towards his group at high speed.

"GO, GO, GO!" Jenna frantically hits her hand on her passenger door and Jafaar immediately changes gears and floors it out of his parking spot into the street with Andrei, Salvatore, and Seymour flying in the back of the cargo van. With the lack of traffic, Jafaar easily cuts a corner to speed down another street to start them on their way towards their destination. Jenna keeps her eyes glued to her computer screen when suddenly she forcefully jerks forward, almost hitting the dashboard if it weren't for her seatbelt.

"WHAT THE F-"

"POP THE BACK, HURRY UP!" Jafaar yells over his shoulder.

Andrei immediately crawls to the back doors and heaves one of them open when Emily jumps in like a speed of light, slamming the door behind her.

"HOLD ON TO SOMETHING!" Jafaar warns the back crew when he presses his foot on the gas pedal and continues his journey, following the GPS.

Emily harshly exhales, still unable to breathe steadily from her sprinting. She drops by her side her purse, wig, heels, a pipe, and baton that ends up rolling down the opposite side of the van with Jafaar's speedy driving. Her lower face and blue dress was bloodied as she sunk against the interior wall, not even realizing everyone was staring at her as she held onto her beaten wrist.

"…..I don't know whether to curse you out or just skip to the part where I wrap my hands around your throat and strangle you into unconsciousness." Jenna is the first to end the silence as she stares back at Emily who kept her sights down.

"I-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, EMILY. DON'T EVEN SPEAK. YOU LOST THAT FUCKING ABILITY WHEN YOU LEFT US IN THE MIDDLE OF A GODDAMN MISSION." Jenna unapologetically roars over her with venom coating her words from the ire in her throat. She goes to talk again when she gets choked up, so angry that she couldn't form the right sentence to tear Emily apart with. Her hands find themselves digging into her hair as she turned back to the front, frustrated, trying to not boil over the edge.

Emily takes a glimpse up to see Andrei and Salvatore staring at her, occasionally swaying side to side from the bumps in the road.

"We specifically told you _not_ to go after that hit." Salvatore approaches her in a much different way from Jenna. With his Spanish accent subtle, his voice was low, calmed, and firm to match his light blue eyes that were narrowed at her. From a person looking in, it would appear as if Salvatore was being patient with Emily. However, everyone knows his calm voice is the drastic opposite of calmness.

"We told you too much was at risk, it's impulsive, and there was no plan. If something goes wrong, just the tiniest thing goes left, we all could die. But you decided to march to the beat of your own drum because fuck what we think, huh?"

Emily stares back at Salvatore unmoved and silent.

"You should be on the floor along with this fuckwad. Knocked RIGHT THE HELL OUT." he abruptly revs up, jolting his body at Emily as if he was going to lunge at her. Emily hardly flinches at the quick moment however, she takes a deep, shaky breath as she bows her head.

"What even happened?" Andrei asks, still visibly upset at her abandonment but willing to give Emily the floor to defend herself.

"He's dead. I killed him." she answers simply.

"How the fuck did you manage to do that by yourself?! And without getting caught!" Jafaar switches his glance between the road and Emily through his rear-view mirror.

"I'm Syanide." a little smirk slides across her lips that blood streamed on top of from her nose. "I'm that one percent."

...

A month later, Emily sits at her dining room table, positioned right across from her enormous, open view of the blue waters of Miami on the top floor of the condominium she stayed in. She clicks around on her laptop before her fingers tap on the keys, filling out some kind of form.

Transfer amount to receiver: $30,000

"-and I have my period so my cramps are actively working to kill me. Ugh…maybe I should get a dog. I've been thinking of that lately."

"A dog?" Emily asks as she listens to the voice going on through her phone's speaker.

"Like a little puppy that stays the size of a puppy. Not one of those puppies that grow tall enough to look at you in the eyes." Hanna huffs out an exhale, seemingly annoyed. "After Caleb took that little job in California for a few months, I'm starting to think maybe it's not a bad idea. Maybe _you_ should get a dog too so you're not alone."

Emily chuckles to herself, leaning back in her chair, staring at the computer screen. "I'm not alone."

"Oh, I know you aren't. With all those girls you talk to, it's impossible for you to be alone."

"What are you talking about? I'm not talking to any girls."

"Your Twitter DMs say different."

" _What?_ " Emily's eyes shift to her phone as if she was looking at Hanna herself.

"You forgot I had your password, didn't you! Well, one day I was bored and I just logged in and I saw _eveeeerything_!"

Now sitting up straight, Emily tries to comeback with a response but four different statements for her to possibly use came out all at once, making her stutter over her words.

"Not only are you stepping out on me but with women who don't even have real breasts! Are mines not enough?!"

"Han, I-"

" _Although_ , that one girl actually had some nice ones. I'm kinda envious…"

Before Emily could say anything else, she is caught off guard yet again by another one of Hanna's comments. This time, she's more intrigued. "Which one?"

"The one with the birthmark on her face." Hanna explains, trying to think back to her snooping hours. "Her twitter was cat….something."

"Oh, _Kat_." Emily sinks back into her chair again, spacing her legs out comfortably. "Katheryn, yeah. Those are actually real, though."

"No, they're not." Hanna retorts with an eye roll that was practically heard.

"Yeah, they are."

"No it's not."

"Yes it is!"

"How would _you_ know?"

Emily smiles with an open mouth, not knowing exactly how to answer that question. "Don't worry about it, I just know."

There was a definite silence that was longer than Emily expected. She woke up her phone screen just to make sure the call was still connected. And it was.

"Hello?"

"…I could have lived without that imagery. I have food on the stove, goodbye." Hanna declares all in one breath before she hangs up without uttering anything else. Emily shakes her head and reaches for her phone to open up their text conversation.

 _Today 4:12pm_

 _Emily:_ I love you too, you goofball

Her smiles slowly fades when she locked her phone and looked back at her computer. She silently stares at the blinking cursor, waiting for nothing. After a while, she sits up and begins typing again.

Receiver: Maya St. Germain

Message (optional): For whatever you might need….

She confirms the transaction then logs out of her bank account and closes her laptop. With a sigh and a rub of her face, Emily pushes out of her chair.

"Lucy?"

"Yes, Emily?" the pleasant, light voice activates with the call of her name.

"What is going on tonight? I'm bored and I really don't feel like rewatching 30 Rock." she starts planning her possible night out as she walks towards her room.

"What exactly are you looking for? Keywords can help narrow my search for things to fit your taste."

"I feel like clubbing…. _without clubbing_. Like the vibe of music without the tight spaces and stuffed people." Emily tries to describe while taking off her shirt, now in her master bathroom. "Basically, I want to mingle but in a relaxed kind of way. But not like a lounge. That's too relaxed."

Lucy accepts the detailed description of Emily's request and searches the internet for local hotspots that will be lively tonight.

"I think I have something that you might like. Have you ever been to Little Havana?"

...

After taking Lucy's recommendation, Emily took her absolute sweet time to get ready, making sure her body was at least somewhat rested since it was barely five and this "party" didn't start until 10pm. However, if it started at 10pm, she wasn't going to hit the road until 11 because who goes to a party early or on time? Deciding not to look it up and be surprised, Emily sat on Lucy's description of what she was getting herself into – "Caribbean Night" in Little Havana with food vendors on site and a live DJ, all outside.

The hands of time seemed to have turned the hours into minutes when the sun finally set and the night came into full swing. With her black hair bone straight, she keeps her attire simple with a black bandeau bra and high waisted, blue palazzo pants with splashes of yellow. Her flat, gold scandals were hidden by the length of the bottoms though she didn't hide the rest of the gold accessories she wore. Hands covered in rings, wrists with bracelets and a few arm cuffs to match as her tattoos breathed with visibility for all to see.

It's a little after midnight and the city was _alive._ A street party with banners of different flags representing different islands and countries, the smell of barbequed food in the air, the DJ keeps the people moving with a mix of today and yesterday's music. Emily leans against the wall of one of the bricked buildings on the sidewalk, away from the middle of the street where everyone raved. With a toothpick hanging from the side of her mouth, she watches behind her black matte sunglasses a circle that opened up with people hopping in the middle to freestyle a dance for the crowd.

"Hello there, gorgeous! How are you doing tonight?!" a slightly drunk guy waltz into Emily's view, reaching out for her hand. Just as quick, Emily pulls back out of his cold grasp with a head shake and an amused chuckle.

"Not in this lifetime, buddy."

"What?!" he leans into Emily, not being able to hear over the music.

"Not interested!" she repeats louder as she crosses her arms and puts her attention back onto the people before her. The random partier looks at Emily, not understanding her quick denial before he moves on and walks away.

Loud drums emerge from the speaker, soon followed by a smooth guitar when the DJ begins to speak over the music.

"Spinning it back to the hottest song of the summer of 2000. I know everyone had their own Maria's that they drooled over and wanted to be theirs. I still remember mines. Jenny Alvarez, Washington Heights, class of 2001. But y'all ain't ready for that story. All I know is that there are a lot of Maria's here tonight! Don't be shy and ask them for a dance!"

The chorus of Maria Maria starts on beat after the DJ's adlib and Emily nods her head from side to side as she sees people pairing up and dancing everywhere and anywhere there was space. As the DJ described, Emily remembers the song well when it came out although not being as grown as he was. She reminisces on the time of her being 13 years old, reliving all past memories that the song brought when her eye catches something red.

The brightness of a red floral skirt popped within the crowd as it moved past people. Emily's eyes trailed up from the high slit of the skirt to a chest hugging, white crop top that seemed brighter than white itself under the lights. The top had two thin straps that crossed in the front over the stomach and tied in the back that was confidently exposed. With a red bandana to match the skirt, long, blonde hair curled ever so perfectly over the stranger's shoulders, easily making her stand out of the herd with the color choices she worked with.

Emily felt like she was watching the girl move in slow motion like some sort of movie sequence as she brushed past people before a guy pulled her onto the street to dance. Being at a distance, the girl has no idea about Emily's presence or lurking eyes but Emily was now determined to meet her sometime tonight.

"What are you doing?! You should be dancing! Not holding up a wall! C'mon!" a random girl approaches Emily in her daze and grabs her by her arm, leading her to the street. Snapping out of it, Emily's feet was already moving in-between people and she didn't feel the need to protest it. The girl took her towards the center of the street where the party lights of green, red, and blue started to flicker and began dancing. However, she was more moving with herself on Emily than with Emily as Emily realized she was a few bodies away from the blonde she saw earlier. She could see her face much better close up but was blocked by how much she was constantly shuffling.

Emily side steps, putting minimal effort in her movements, her hands occasionally finding their way on the girl. However, she couldn't help but to keep her eyes on the blonde who was fully entangled with a backwards baseball cap wearing guy who had her attention. A few turns took place where the girl would casually look into the crowd, finding Emily, but it wasn't until she was holding onto the guy, her face by his shoulder, when she directly looked at Emily and her sunglasses. She raised her eyebrow, almost wondering if she was in fact staring at her. She swore she saw a subtle head tilt from Emily but looked away to focus back on her dance partner. Emily follows, now actually giving her attention to the girl who was trying to make this pairing work for the song that was playing.

The crowd cheers on the ending of the song and Emily thanks the girl with a soft smile. When she walks off, she sees the blonde stranger part from her partner as well and strolls her way out of the middle towards a food-cart vendor off to the side. Emily gives it a minute before she casually follows the same path and ends up behind her. She briefly hears the man repeat her order when another worker asks Emily what she wants.

"Uhm…give me a side of platanos, please." she nods at him and he goes straight into putting together her plate. The girl who is now opening her small, also red, waist bag, takes a quick side peek at Emily before giving the man the money needed.

"You know it's rude to stare at people with shades on." she coolly comments loud enough for Emily to hear.

Emily snaps a look her way for a second then looks straight ahead again. "I'm just looking at the other food options and you were kind of in the way. Sorry." she plays it easy.

" _Mhmmm_ …" she responds back as she receives her food in a covered aluminum plate and change. She thanks the vendor and moves on where Emily watches her find an empty table.

After she paid and was served as well, Emily slowly makes her way towards the blonde's table, pointing at the benched seat.

"Is this taken?"

"It's public property." the girl shrugs, keeping her eyes down. "Don't think I have much of a say, do I?"

Emily parks herself across from her, giving her enough space, and removes the lid to her food. The steam welcomes her as she opens her silverware and starts to dig in. The blonde shifts her eyes at Emily discreetly, just watching her put food into her mouth with ease.

"Is this what you do?" she puts her elbow on the table as Emily glances up at her. "Stare at people from the dance floor then follow them to where they eat?"

"What makes you think I was staring at _you_?" Emily shakes her head with a shrug, almost insulted that this girl would say such a declaration towards her.

Caught with a good rebuttal, the blonde is stumped within herself, left to just bite her tongue and go back to eating her food in silence.

This amuses Emily.

"What a beauty, if I must say, however…"

The blonde looks up at her just as Emily looks back down at her plate. She fidgets with a smile almost breaking through. "…Thank you."

"I was talking about the party." Emily laughs with another head shake. "You really like making things about yourself, don't you?" she leans in curiously with a smile that showed her teeth.

The girl laughs with defeat, shuffling her rice around with her plastic, black spork. "I'm not the one saying and doing misleading things."

Emily continues to watch at her. She was now in position, fully intrigued with the game of chess that had just began, unbeknownst to the poor, unsuspecting girl. So unaware about who she was talking to.

"What's your name?"

"I don't have one."

" _Wow_ , you don't have a name?" Emily gasps in fake surprise.

"Nope." the girl scoops and chews another spork-full amount of rice and beans.

"So, your mother didn't give you a name after she birthed you out?"

The blonde raises her head, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she looks at Emily, although blocked by her shades. "Don't have a mother and I wasn't birthed out."

" _Holy shit_ …..what are you then?" Emily stabs the cooked plantain and throws it into her mouth, talking from the opposite side. "A goddess that floated down here just for a little fun with us pathetic humans?"

"Precisely." the blonde raises her shoulders with a tempting smile that came directly from her eyes.

So far from their conversation, Emily noticed she didn't have a southern accent nor an accent that denoted she was from the Islands. She sounded more up north, similar to hers. Her voice was matured however her face was radiant and soft which didn't lock her in a specific age. She had no ring on her finger so she knew she wasn't married (or at least hopped she wasn't) and she seemed to holds herself with extreme confidence.

Almost giving Emily a run for her money.

" _Wow_ …." Emily replies. "I've never met a goddess before. Especially not a goddess that eats regular, greasy food like we do." she points at the girl's already nearly empty plate. "Shouldn't you have no appetite? You know, the whole I never get hungry bit because I don't need food to survive?"

"I have to blend in somehow, right?" she smiles at her with a flick of her eyebrow and squint of her eyes.

 _Holy fuck, that dimple…._

Emily loses herself in her thoughts as the girl continued to finish her food. The way her nose crinkled, dimple popped, and smile widened to display her white teeth in a grin, she felt something unreal pass through her. Something unexplainable. Something different.

"My name is Emily, just in case you were wondering."

"Why would I be wondering what your name is?" the girl's forehead creased as her bright smile disappeared into total bewilderment. Emily laughs and nods her heads at the mockery.

 _This chess game has an experienced player…Alright._

Emily's attention is grabbed yet again when the blonde gets up with her finished plate, apparently about to leave her by herself.

"Are you running away already? I was just getting to know you."

The girl turns around to face Emily again with her empty plate in hand. "What is there to know?"

" _Plenty_. A girl as beautiful as yourself doesn't just walk into a function without catching the eyes of at least half the room."

"So you admit it. You _were_ staring."

"I guess I was." Emily raises her hands, guilty as charged. "But can you honestly blame me?"

"No. If I were you, I would stare at me too." and on that note, the blonde walks towards a nearby trashcan to dispose her plate as Emily quickly devours the rest of her food and gets up to throw away hers as well.

"I would hate for this to be our only interaction." Emily honestly remarks, catching the stranger right before she could disappear for good. "How can I see you again?"

"You won't." the girl casually rejects Emily and steps to walk off when Emily reaches for her elbow, a silent gesture of wanting her to hold on just a little longer.

"Well, if this will be the last time I see you…..can I at least get a dance?" she lightly smiles, not too enthusiastic but just with the right hint of desire mixed with hope that she wouldn't be rejected again.

The blonde stares into Emily's shades, pulling away from her unwanted touch. "Why are you wearing sunglasses in the dark? Doesn't that defeat its purpose?"

"It's for your protection."

" _My_ protection?"

"Yes, yours. If I take them off, lasers will shoot out of my eyes. _Very hot lasers._ But you can't tell anyone that." she raises her finger to her slyly curved lips. "That's my secret."

"So you're like Cyclops, basically." the blonde crosses her arms.

" _Exactly_. But the real question at hand has yet to be answered."

"And what question is that?"

"If I can have one dance."

"…I'll let you have a dance _if_ you take off your glasses." the blonde proposes.

"What?" Emily is somewhat taken back at the odd exchange, however, all the girl did was nod her head affirmatively. She looked as if this was her take it or leave deal with her very close to walking if not taken.

"What kind of tradeoff is that?"

"You're obviously hiding something and I want to know what it is." she steps into Emily's personal space, leaning in like she was trying to see through the pitch black tint. "I don't think it's because you're a hotshot so it has to be something else."

Staggering black, Emily clutches her chest with her mouth to the floor. "Ow! You don't think I'm a hotshot?"

"Not at all."

" _I_ think I'm a hotshot."

"I bet your mom tells you that all the time to make you feel good about yourself." the blonde nods with an eye roll that almost teased a smile.

" _You_ ….." Emily wags a finger at the girl who carelessly held her ground. "You are just a snappy one, aren't you?"

"I just tell it like it is." she shrugs in return. Throughout this entire conversation, Emily feels as if she hasn't been able to get a steady footing. It felt like talking to this girl was like standing on a constant sliding platform. Although Emily has dealt with many hard to gets in her time, this one was as slippery as wet soap.

" _Okay_." Emily finally agrees. "A face reveal in exchange for one dance." she drops her head, laughing to herself. One thing when it comes to flirting and making her impressions, Emily always knew how to make others feel bashful. With the words she would say, the softness of her voice and touch, the smile and perfectly timed lip bites, and just enough push that bring down their walls, Emily knew how to pull those emotions out of girls. But for some reason….doing nothing that she does and with a different approach, why does this girl make _her_ feel…..shy?

Emily breathes out and removes her shades, folding them in her hands before she finally lifts her face right to be caught in the blonde's eyes. The girl took a surprising step back, not at all prepared for what she was seeing.

"You're wearing contacts?" the girl then moved into Emily's face to really examine her eyes.

"Not at all." Emily shakes her head with a half-smile. "This is all me."

With the dark tint of the glasses, Emily didn't realized how it dulled out how _blue_ this girl's eyes scent of shower clean fresh almost intoxicates Emily with the stranger face to face with her. As she studies her eyes with fascination, Emily gazes at her face, memorizing every feature and every shape. It really struck her how beautiful she was. But her beauty wasn't just on a spectrum of unattractive and attractive. There was something about her that frustrates her because she can't pinpoint _what it is._

Overhead, the DJ mixes another song within his track list of the night. His loud voice on the microphone blends over the light and easy beat as the crowd cheers at his selection choice.

"Looks like it's your move now." Emily nearly whispers, still staring at the blonde.

The girl glances down at Emily's tattooed hand and lightly grabs a hold of it, turning around and leading her towards the crowd. With her opposite hand, she tucks her sunglasses onto the top of her head and allows the girl to take her wherever she chooses. That's when her eyes caught something on the upper-middle part of the girl's open back. It appeared to be a small tattoo of some collection of words but with them walking into an area with less light, it got lost in sight.

" _I lose all control when I see you standing there in front of me. Your style, your clothes, your hair, your flair - woman, you look so sexy._ _The way you wine and, the way you dance and the way that you twist and turn your waist. Leaves me wanting, leaves me yearning - leaves me feelin' for a taste."_

The entire street sings along to the chorus of Rupee's "Tempted to Touch" when the blonde turns around to face Emily. She locks both their hands together and begin to move side to side with the beat of the song's drums. At this moment, they only focus on each other, ignoring everyone else close around them. Emily began taking ahold of the reigns of this dance when she pulls the girl into her, chest to chest, laying a gentle hand on her lower back. The blonde flips her hair out of her face before she rested an arm over Emily's shoulder, following the rhythm they've created. Emily's slightly bended knee gradually finds itself in-between the blonde's legs as they grind in union, occasionally holding eye contact with each other.

It wasn't long before Emily briefly pulls away, extending for the girl's hand and spinning her around where she stopped short of a full turn, pressing herself on Emily's front. Emily snakes her hands on her hips, almost guiding them as she rotated them in a circle when the blonde leans her head back, reaching her hand towards the side of Emily's face. Emily inhales the aroma of orange blossoms from her incredibly silky-smooth, blonde hair when one of her hands creep towards the girl's warm abdomen.

The sensuality that exuded from them, elevating their sense of closeness with every minute that passed by, would make anyone watching them think they were an item. And with how they we're so into each other with this dance, there was no way Emily was going to let her escape her grasp.

Not that quickly.

...

Three dances later, back to back, Emily and the girl were too engulfed with one another to separate after just one song. Just for their first meeting, their chemistry meshed incredibly well to the point that Emily felt entrapped within a spell the girl's presence casted when she tried to leave. She follows her away from the party towards another street where the music was just a distant rumble, people were minimal, and cars were parked on the curb.

"I know you _have_ to have a name." Emily pushes one last time as she holds onto the girl's hand, not wanting to let go.

"Why?" she squints at her with a curious head tilt.

Emily takes a step closer to her. "So I know what to say when I worship you." she responds delicately, her voice lowered to a hush as she searches deeply into the blue ones before her, hoping to show that genuine want that she's been feeling all night.

The girl simply raises a corner of her lip, amused by the comment. She drops her sights to the concrete sidewalk they stood on as cars drive past them, their headlights creating illumination on her face in the darkness with every pass. Emily patiently waits, rubbing her thumb on the blonde's until she raises her head again.

"Alison."

Emily's appearance brightens with a wide smile, finally unlocking the first dead-bolted door. "A goddess named Alison….Beautiful name for an angelic face." she compliments, leisurely now swinging their hand side to side. "Do you mind if we exchange contacts? I would love to get in touch with you again."

Alison stays quiet for a few seconds after the question. "What's your number?"

Upon asking, Emily was ready to give it out but she waited for some kind of movement from Alison. When she noticed how she didn't even shift a muscle, this slightly confused her.

"…Where is your phone?"

"It's not on me."

"Then how are you supposed to take down my number?"

Alison taps her temple as if it was obvious. This confused Emily even more.

"You're _that_ skilled to remember numbers despite constant distraction?"

"I'm a goddess, _remember_?" Alison's voice teases as the words roll off her tongue, her mouth left parted open with a slick grin. "There's no such thing as a distraction. _I am_ the distraction."

Emily glances Alison's body up and down, from her face to her feet and back again with a raised brow. _Surely confident._

" _Yes ma'am_."

She gives her number to Alison and has her recite it back to her just for clarity. And as she said she would, Alison repeated her exact number. Another captivated impression made. Alison then nods, stepping away from Emily as their hands slowly disconnected from their touch.

"Bye, Emily." she says sweetly as she continues to walk backwards into the night's darkness.

Emily watches on, her eyes glued onto her until she could no longer she her anymore.

"Bye, Alison…"

" **I saw her. She was right there!"**

" **I'm telling you it was a dream. That would be impossible, Danny."**

" **But it isn't impossible!" the young boy kicks his feet under the table, clearly irritated by his fidgeting. "It's real life!"**

 **An older man walks into the kitchen halfway dressed for the day. "What seems to be all the noise, squirt?" he passes by the boy, scuffing up his hair. "What's going on?"**

" **I saw Gracie last night." the boy explains yet again in hopes that someone would listen to him.**

" **In a dream?" the man asks as he pours himself a cup of freshly-brewed coffee.**

" ** _Nooooo!_** **It wasn't a dream! It was real, dad! I was sleeping and I felt I had to pee so I got up and went to go to the bathroom and saw Gracie in the hallway."**

 **The father cocks his head with a mixed facial expression. He glances over at his wife who shrugs back at him.**

" **That couldn't have happened, son. Gracie is in Ohio at her college."**

" **But I saw her!" the boy jumps in his seat. "She was standing in your room while you guys were sleeping. I said her name and she turned around but I couldn't really see her face because it was dark. She picked me up and put me back in my bed. When I asked her where she was going, she told me that I had to be quiet and go back to sleep. But I still had to pee so I went to the bathroom but when I came back, she was gone."**

 **A massive chill rushed through the father's body as the little boy stared at him, awaiting feedback on this news. He clears his throat and straightens his posture, tightly gripping his warm cup in his hands.**

" **Okay, hurry up and finish your breakfast so you can get ready for school, Danister."**

 **The boy gives up trying to explain his night and goes back into eating his honey comb cereal when the mother slides up to her husband in a low voice, undetectable to their son.**

" **That has to be a dream, right?" she looks at his face that stared down at his coffee. "I mean, Gracie wouldn't just show up in the middle of the night without telling us then leave. That's a one hell of a drive for something that brief."**

 **The husband keeps himself quiet for a few seconds before he pushes himself off the counter he leaned on. "Call Gracie immediately and see where she is."**

 **The wife's eyes widen. "…You don't think-"**

" ** _Now_** **, Lillian." the husband reiterated with a hard face, staring in her eyes before he swiftly walks out of the kitchen.**

 **Emily Fields is Syanide. Knocking off the hardest man to kill, Syanide is now labeled the most _deadliest_ killer walking this planet. The high school reunion at Rosewood High should be fun with her new title. However, now she's tempted with a blonde "goddess" named Alison who seems to be immune to her tricks. Looks like this game of chess is far from over. **

**Many things took place during this chapter; some big, plenty small. What does all of these things mean?**


	7. Chapter 3: Intense Intentions

**I've seen a comment about not fully understanding Emily's relationship with her group/friends, especially when she "revealed" her secret identity to them last chapter. So just for extra clarification for those if I haven't been direct, Emily is a contracted killer along with her teammates. Each one of them are killers as well and they hide it just as good. They all went to the same agency, went through similar training, and they all "graduated", so to speak. And like Simon Cowell did the members of One Direction, one of the superiors of that agency handpicked those five and put them together in a group as a super team.**

 **Thus, these band of killers for missions being born. The only people who know of Emily's identity of Syanide are those group members and Emily's superiors. Nobody else. And this is vice versa for the others.**

 **So, when she said, "** _ **I'm Syanide. I'm that percent,**_ **" she didn't reveal her identity because they already know as they all have secret identities. However, I will touch on that soon so the confusion of Emily's new life doesn't stay that confusing.**

 **I've also seen quite a few questions sprinkled among the reviews and while I would love to answer, it looks like you have to read on to get answers….this is a thick one, folks.**

CHAPTER #3: Intense Intentions

 _Italics means thoughts, emphasized word or action._ **Bolded is a flashback.** (….) is an indication that time has passed.

 **If people were to pick a positive attribute that best describes her, they would say patience. Her patience is as steady as the moon gradually cascading over the bright sky lit up by the sun. Most people would impulsively act out, derailing their process and planning to jump at a window of opportunity. Even if that window was barely cracked, they would still chance it.**

 **But not** _ **her**_ **. She has** _ **patience**_ **.**

 **She sits in her RV that she had parked within the woods behind a residential area. This is a sentence that appears to sound fine to the ears and would not be blinked at twice to the everyday person. She could be hunting, fishing, or camping. Nothing odd. Nothing illegal.**

 **But could this sentence be illegal if it the RV she sat in was stolen, the woods was her hideout while a specific home in the residential neighborhood was her obsession?**

 _ **Possibly.**_

 **In the dark of the night, sitting at the table with a plastic bowl of mini pretzel snacks, she places a couple in her mouth, sucking the salt off them as she stares intently at her computer screen. She presses down on her arrow keys slowly, letting the seconds go by before she presses it again. With each tap, it gives her another selection to preview, giving her options of what she wanted to see. She taps on the key several times before she halts. She back pedals and swiftly presses on the left arrow key, skimming through her screens before she stops again. Her eyes squint as she leans in and covers every inch of the monitor before she came to a conclusion.**

 **She taps the right arrow key again until she's in another part of the house, watching the boy climb into his bed with his He-Man stuffed toy held tightly to his chest.**

 **It was just the boy.**

 **She relaxes back into the bench couch and cycles through the different cameras until she hits another room.**

" **-Okay, it's my turn to have your attention, now."**

" **Give me a second…"**

" **I gave you a second ten minutes ago. You promised."**

 **And I will just….** _ **give me a second**_ **…"**

" **Second's up. You can get to this later."**

" **Wh-wait! Wait!"**

" **Page 122, you'll be fine. I'll remember it for you."**

" **I was getting to the good part, Lance."**

 **Oh, that part won't even** _ **compare**_ **to the good I'm about to give you…"**

 **She reaches for another handful of pretzels as she watches the monitor, barely blinking. The soft mixture of kisses, moans, and sheets rustling plays at a considerate volume from the computer speakers. All she does is suck on the pretzels before sluggishly chewing them.**

 **Patient as a spider watching its victim inch closer and closer to their web.**

…

" **Please tell me you remember that the workers are coming today for the stairs."**

" **I did, I did. I'm doing PT this morning instead of later. Once I'm done, I'll take care of some stuff, and I'll let them in when they come."**

 **The couple walks out their front door, with the husband locking it behind them. Their voices became inaudible as they continued their conversation, walking down to the driveway where both their cars are parked. They kissed each other goodbye before they hopped in their respected vehicles, pulled out, and drove out into the world to their workplaces. This is when she makes her move.**

 **With an Alpine Swiss briefcase in hand, she treks through her wooded surroundings until she gets into the back of the house. She checks out the neighboring homes, making sure there was not a soul hanging around that should witness her entering through the back patio door. The moment she stepped over the golden trimmed threshold and locked the door, she stands perfectly still in the living room. The deep inhales of cinnamon relaxed her completely. Even made her smile a bit.**

… **.**

 **Gloved and highlighted hair tied up, she sits at the dining room table, eating the last remains of her tomato zucchini penne with a glass of orange juice to drink on the side. It wasn't** _ **hers**_ **, of course. Finding leftovers in the refrigerator, she figured it was an invitation to help herself. Almost like a reward for the job she has yet to accomplish.**

 _ **Whoever cooked this? Magical hands**_ **, she thought to herself while chowing down the food. It's been a while since she's had a home-cooked meal so she made sure to take her time to savor this one. After she was finished, like a polite houseguest, she washes her dishes and places them back in the cabinets they belonged to. With a nice stretch of her legs, arms, and neck, it was time to work.**

 **A few hours pass by and within that time, she had made herself at home. The cameras she had placed throughout the house were removed and she had set up her precautions for every scenario she could think of in case things don't go the way she planned. With more than enough time left to herself, she sits on a rocking chair that was placed in the corner of the master bedroom and reads one of the many books Lance's wife, Lillian, had perched on a small shelf.**

… **.**

" **Oh my** _ **god**_ **, Jasmine. This is why you will never be in a healthy relationship. Because of shit like this." she mumbles to herself with an irritated eye roll and head shake as she turns the page.**

 **A door is heard being opened and her attention snaps from her story-time. Very quietly yet swiftly, she eases herself out of the rocking chair, places the book back into its position on the bookshelf, and slides her way into the bedroom closet, leaving the door open just enough for her eyes to see through a crack.**

 **A minute or so later, just as planned, the husband trots himself up the stairs, breathing heavily coming into his bedroom. She stays absolutely silent as he walks over to his dresser, pulling out some clothes, and entering the master bathroom. With the rummaging of drawers and cabinets sounding before the shower is turned on, she soundlessly steps out of the closet and jots her way down the stairs. She glances out the downstairs window and notices his car wasn't parked in the driveway. This caused a small alarm to go off in her head at the mere idea of her very intricate plan taking a left turn.**

 **Her quick thinking begins taking over when her eyes come across a set of key on the kitchen table in the far distance. She stands there, putting two and two together before she steps in the direction to the garage door, swinging it open to find the very car she was looking for.**

 _ **Even better**_ **, she smiles.**

…

 **Fresh and clean from the vigorous workout of the day, the husband walks out of the bathroom, untwisting the nail clipper in his hand before he looks up and is immediately startled at the sight of a woman standing in his room with a gun aimed right at him.**

" **Don't take another step if you know what's good for you, Lance. Or should I say** _ **Lieutenant General Stevens**_ **."**

Emily jolts forward with her eyes wide open, explicitly showing the whites of her eyes. Her breathing was slowed and deep as if she was still sleeping but her eyes were shifting back and forth uncontrollably.

"I-"

There was a shift beside her with a small intake of air as a woman sluggishly flips over, nuzzling her face and honey brown hair into her fluffy white pillow.

"Hm?" She asked with a simple noise, one eye barely open as she looked up at Emily sitting straight up next to her. Emily didn't respond, not even a single movement as she sat as still as a cemented statue.

"What happened? What's wrong?" she tiredly grumbles, stretching her hand to touch Emily's side.

"I don't feel so good…" a deep, rusted voice rumbles from Emily's throat, leaving her jaw hung open. Her eyes continued move at a rapid pace as if she was watching a tennis game on fast forward.

However, the woman was unable to see Emily's face and just opted of grabbing her instead, simply thinking she had a bad dream. She brings Emily back into the bed with her, wrapping her arms around her sides as she scooted behind her as the big spoon. Like a robot, Emily allowed this woman to control her movements of laying her down without another word. A deep sigh is heard from behind as Emily feels overwhelmed with tiredness again, slowly closing her eyes.

…

Out of reflex, Emily's leg jerks and kicks something hard and firm. The throbbing pain in her toe causes her to open her eyes again. Very quickly, utter confusion sets in. Her squinted eyes dart from left to right as she tries to comprehend what was going on.

There she laid, still in her night attire, in the backseat of her car parked right outside the house. The sun burned beautifully in the perfect morning sky, shining its harsh light in her face. With absolutely no recollection of how she got here, she couldn't help but ask herself, _what the hell._

 _Why would she sleep in her car?_

She twists her body to get up when a thud hit the carpeted flooring. Emily threw her hand out to reach for whatever fell, thinking it was her phone. However, the moment her fingers grasped something much thinner than a square, she quickly lifted the object up to see that it was not her phone but a chef's knife. And as if she had put on the bracelet of Anubis, she saw everything play out before her eyes as to how she ended up from the bed with her woman of the night to the backseat of her four-door.

Within seconds, Emily jumps up, dropping the clean knife and scrambles out of the car. She trips upon leaping from the door, falling hands first onto the pavement. Her coordinates were unbalanced as she springs back onto her bare feet, slamming the door behind her, and jogs back to the front door. She pushes through with a huff, anticipating a horrendous, bloody scene.

"Good morning. How was your run?" the woman glances up with a small smile as she ties the straps of her heels.

Not comprehending what she was seeing versus what she expected, leaning against the door, Emily slowly pushes herself off of it.

"Huh?"

"You left pretty early and with your car still out there, I assumed you went for that early morning run that you like to do."

"…..Yeah…..yeah, I….I ran a-a little." Emily gulped breathlessly as she tried to act normal.

"So, I'm gonna head out." the woman stands back up, shaking her long, wavy hair before she walks up to Emily with her purse and keys in hand.

"Thanks for last night." she kisses Emily's cool cheek. "I'll text you later."

"Okay…" Emily barely mumbles out before the woman opens the front door and lets herself out.

The heavy breathing doesn't stop when Emily is left alone. She tries to collect herself, claim some sort of relief, but the only thing she could do is shake her head with a groan.

….

Emily scrolls through her phone notifications one last time as she walked down a hallway with a green Go-Gurt hanging from her mouth. She sucks the yogurt from the tube slowly, stopping right in front of a closed door.

An entire week and a half has passed and she has received exactly zero texts, calls, or any form of contact from Alison. It was kind of disappointing but Emily didn't let it get to her that much. Most girls play games or are only into one time deals, not wanting to continue further with anything else for whatever reason they may have. Yet, she would be lying if she said she wasn't anticipating a new text from an unknown number by now. She should have known it was all bullshit the moment Alison claimed not to have her phone on her and that she'll go by memory.

Shame, really. She was incredibly beautiful. Easily the attraction of the night, especially wearing the red that she did.

Emily turns the knob of the door she stood in front and entered the all too familiar room.

"-I don't know why she's always calling me. Maybe she wants some _dick_." Salvatore says harshly just as he turned around to see Emily enter his office. He acknowledges her presence with a mere head nod as she plopped herself on the nearby couch and eased into it, sitting more than comfortably in her relaxed white suit that consisted of an open white blazer with rolled up sleeves, matching suit pants, and white and gold loafers. Underneath her jacket she wore a simple pink shirt to go along with her pink mirrored aviators. All with a Go-Gurt draped from her mouth.

Salvatore hangs up his call and turns to face Emily when he takes a moment to soak in her company.

"….Why do you look like a fucking extra from Miami Vice?"

Emily's low, tight ponytail sways behind her as she twists her neck in the opposite direction of Salvatore, ignoring his comment.

"You look like if Don Johnson and Phillip Michael Thomas had fuckfest back in the 80s and had secret gay daughter."

Emily cocks her head back at him with her eyes narrowing behind her sunglasses and a small smirk that was more annoyed but trying not to laugh as Salvatore crossed his arms.

"You look like a pedestrian from GTA Vice City that dances to "Call Me" at the Malibu Club before getting shot."

"Are you done?"

"You look like fucking A.C. Slater from Saved by the Bell." Salvatore extends his hand to point at Emily's choice of attire, eyebrows scrunched towards each other. "Whada-what is this you got in your mouth, huh? What are you? Eight?"

"You're just mad that you don't have one and I do." Emily pridefully holds up her chin like an actual eight year old before a hand finds itself crawling into the inner chest pocket of her jacket.

"Luckily for you, I have a cotton _candy.._." she pulls out another Go-Gurt, waving it side to side like it was a golden ticket.

Salvatore skips over to Emily on the couch and rips it out of her hand with the quickness.

"Give me that shit… _I love cotton candy._ " his voice drops to a murmur as he tries to tear open the children's yogurt snack.

As brash, violent, and downright petrifying as Salvatore can be, Emily liked hanging with him for several reasons. While she did her years' worth of training at the academy that saved her back in 2012, she met a hundreds of other students, one of them being Salvatore. Although today a few years older than her in his 30's, something about his ill humor made her stick around him, just for laughs at the times she needed it the most.

To understand pieces of Emily through him and how they operate now, one must go back and skim through his past. Before living in America, Salvatore was born and raised as Rafael in Argentina, the middle child of three children – one girl and two boys. When his biological father ran off on the family, his mother, Yolanda, remarried a man named Joaquín who promised to take care of her and her children as if they were his own. Everything sounded so promising with the structure of the words he put together, however, it only took two years into the relationship for the cries of abuse to begin.

Escalating from skin-twisting pinches to deliberate punches at the young age of 13, Rafael would frequently tell his mother about the mistreatment but never did she believe him. Instead, she would accuse him of trying to break up their family because of his jealousy towards the new man of the house, still being upset that his father left.

One day after dinner when it was Rafael's turn for kitchen duty, he quietly critiqued Joaquín's cleanliness when he created a splatter on the wall from carelessly tossing a container of food in the garbage. As he washed the dishes, Rafael rolled his eyes, muttering how he creates messes worse than toddlers as a grown man. When he turned around to place the plates where they belonged, he was surprised with powerful slap to the face that prompted him to drop and shatter the dish everywhere. When he instantly looked to his mother, who witnessed the act, for help, Yolanda said nothing.

Now 15 in the new fresh decade of 2000, Rafael and Joaquín were sent on an errand when Joaquín lured him out of the vehicle and convinced him that the destination they were trying to reach would be better on foot for the rest of the way. Once isolated and alone, Joaquín grabbed and dragged an unsuspecting, scrawny Rafael and tossed him off a small bridge as he planned to kill him. He plummeted into the icy lake in cold winter of July like a heavy boulder, not once having the second to comprehend what was happening. With absolutely no swimming experience, Rafael bobbed in the waters, thrashing his arms belligerently as he tried to scream for help. His last memory was watching Joaquín jog back in the direction of his car before he went under with not another sound to be made.

As a now much older man, he still doesn't recall how he made it out of the water alive but ever since then, this developed his thalassophobia: fear of large bodies of water. Hardly surviving, Rafael was faced with an immediate new challenge. He was left in the middle of nowhere, soaking wet, with no direction of civilization. He had no choice but to spend the now night outside in the woods, shivering and freezing in heavy, soggy clothes, causing him to pass out.

When he awoke the next morning, he found himself surrounded by an assembly of beavers huddling around him like dogs snuggling up to their owner. Unbeknownst to him at the time, those animals saved his life by creating warmth for him overnight. To this day it's a mystery why they did what they did but this single event in his life established his love for wildlife.

And as odd as the mixture was, Emily liked the switch he had – how he could hate the world one second but the moment a fuzzy small animal comes up to him, he's melts into the softest person on the planet.

"There he is! There's my guy." Salvatore's arms raise with excitement, swallowing a gulp of his cotton candy yogurt as a young man knocked and entered the dimly lit yet organized office. He placed his treat on his classic dark wood desk before he rubbed his hands together.

"Where's everyone else? Why are you here on your lonesome?"

"Well… _sir_ …." the young man started off already with an uneasy aura. Never seeing this boy before, Emily studied him up and down from his messy hair to his street clothes to his dirty Nikes. He couldn't have been older than a 23 year old, suburban living, Caucasian male.

"We had a little problem with things last night…. _sir_." the boy kept his eyes low. This made Salvatore's face go from eager to skeptical within seconds.

"Problem? You know I don't like that word _problem_."

"We – uhh… we had an issue yesterday. Basically boiling down to an ambush…you know?"

"No. I _don't_ know. Where's my money?" Salvatore's voice becomes tough and all Emily could do now is suck on her Go-Gurt and strap in for the ride she was about to observe.

"Uhm…" the boy's scratches his head in nervousness. "All the drugs, all the money…it's…it's gone-"

"Nonono. Nonono. Nono." Salvatore cuts him off with a wag of his finger and what sounded to be a forced laugh. "It's not _all_ the drugs and _all_ the money is gone. It's all _MY_ drugs, all _MY_ money is gone _, okay_? Now, I want to know _who has my shit_?"

Emily watches curiously as the boy hesitates to reply with his answer, seeming anxious to say so.

"HELLO?!" Salvatore claps thunderously as hair flies out of its gelled hold and into his face with his sudden movement of jerking forward.

"I-I-I believe there was a sniper or something because people started getting shot and nobody knew where it was coming from, you know, and everyone started separating, running in different directions." the boy finally spoke up, although in a hurried and almost garbled speech. "I mean, it was instant chaos."

"A fucking-" Salvatore breathes out various sounds of disbelief, glancing briefly at a silent Emily before turning back to the young man. "A fucking _sniper_? What is this? The U.S. Army in Baghdad? Who were you doing the deal with? Who-who has this _sniper_?"

A small sigh is heard as both Salvatore and Emily anticipate an answer. Although she has no idea what deal either of them are speaking on, seeing Sav's day to day work apart from their partnership was intriguing to say the least.

"Quincy was there and I guess the shooter was with them, sir." the boy stated.

Silence fills the personal office of Salvatore as he stares at the kid on the opposite side of his desk. Emily's eyes dance between the apparent worker and her friend, feeling like this stillness was a bomb floating through the air, soon to land and eradicate everything in sight

"Graham." Salvatore spoke lightly with his head bowed. "Quincy Graham."

"Yes. Quincy, sir."

"Alright…." Salvatore strokes his goatee in an attempt to do something with his hands. "Maybe I'm a little bit confused and you can be the one to answer this for me- who the FUCK told you to make a deal with the Graham's?"

"Well, you know-"

"There he goes again with that _I know_ shit." Salvatore looks to Emily who just continues to suck on her snack. "Here's something I _do_ know. I don't have my fucking money, I don't have my drugs, and I'm not happy. So! I'm going to give you until the end of the day to get my drugs and my money, and make me _very happy_ or else I'll make you _very dead_. Lo entiendes?"

The boy visibly swallows down hard in fear with his hands starting to tremble at his side. "I…I don't speak Span-"

"You're going to GET my shit, that's what I said." Salvatore walks from around his desk to stand face to face with the boy whose wide eyes had to suddenly look up from the height difference.

"You're going to bring back what's rightfully mines or _so help me._ If I don't have something in my hands by midnight, it's dead time. I'm gonna kill you, that bitch of a mother of yours, that fucking coward of a father that you have, that whore of a sister you got, your girlfriend – I'm gonna kill everyone you've ever known, everyone you've ever shook hands with, do you understand me? _Please, tell me you understand me_."

"Y-yes. Yes, sir."

"You better get my money from Quincy or its R.I.P. for you. You and Quincy. You're going to be lying right next to that motherfucker in the grave."

"Yes, s-sir. I'll have your things by tonight." he couldn't help but to uncontrollably nod his head, blinking at a rapid speed to add. Salvatore glares down at him with a venomous look, showing that he's honest to his threats.

"….You have four seconds to disappear out of my sight before my fists start flyin-"

Before he could even finish his sentence, the boy darts out of the room, nearly running into the door before he vanishes as if he was never there.

"Fucking _bitch_ …" Salvatore's hands balls up as he turns back to his desk, trying to calm himself although knowing it's impossible at this point. "You can't trust these dumpster fucks to do anything right. Do I have to do EVERYTHING AROUND HERE MYSELF?!" he slams his fist with every word on top of his desk with power as he yells.

Combing his hair back before putting his hands on the hips of his breathless body, he then looks towards Emily.

"Do you have any more of those yogurt things?" his voice fell a few notches into a more calmed demeanor.

"You didn't even finish the one I gave you." Emily pointed at the snack that was moments away from falling off the desk. Salvatore remembers he only ate half and snatches the tube into his grasp.

"This is the shit I deal with, Em. If I'm not out there with you idiots taking care of business, I'm stuck with _these_ idiots that don't know how to do a simple fucking job. I mean, its basic arithmetic! I _get_ the drugs, I, then, _give_ the drugs to these asswipes, they sell it to their buddies to further ruin their communities, they give me the money they make, I break them off their cut, and we do it all over again. It's a cycle that has never changed. But! There always seem to be a problem!"

Finally emptying her Go-Gurt that she took her sweet time finishing, Emily shrugs with nothing much to say since her mind was honestly somewhere else.

Finally arriving home on a miracle after his near death drowning experience, the only person that was around that Rafael could find was his step-father, the one who tried to end his life. There. Working in his shed as if nothing happened. As if he didn't just attempt to kill an innocent boy for no reason. It was then that Rafael crept up behind Joaquín, picking up a large wrench, and cracked his head with a Babe Ruth, homerun swing. He still remembers the sound of the first initial contact the metal made with his skull.

 _It plays in my head like soft, calming jazz_ , Salvatore once reminisced.

When the monstrous scene was discovered by his brother, Rafael was arrested for first degree murder. While screaming "killer" and "devil" at every chance his mother saw him, he pleaded that his act was strictly self-defense with his child abuse allegations to back him up. Through all this turmoil, he figured that his siblings, at least, would be there for them as they knew about the abuse and the markings Joaquín left on him. Yet, they all turned their back on him. Being exonerated for the crime but sentenced to counseling, Rafael completed his set appointments then disappeared for years to live with friends.

By the time he turned 19, harsh drugs became his way of life. With unresolved bitterness and hatred towards his family that abandoned him, he paid an acquaintance a job he'll never forget: to scare and, ultimately, kill his mother. And the friend did. All while he stood there watching. Just as she did to him.

From that point on, he developed a sense of, "If the world is against me, bring it". Founded in a vulnerable time in his life, he was given a second chance, just like Emily, with the new identity of Salvatore. But because of his lack of empathy for others and easily how he can resort to inflicting pain with no remorse, the knowledge of his past is what gained him the nickname (and alias) _Strazio_ , meaning torture and agony in Italian, from the other students at the agency.

And now he's tied up with Emily and the others in their secret circle living their double lives.

"Why are you here anyways?" Salvatore speaks with his mouth full of yogurt as he throws himself into his chair. "What's the special occasion today?"

Emily tilts her head, almost offended. "I can't stop by and say hi to a friend that I care about?"

"Not looking like Don and Phillip's 1984 lovechild, you can't."

Emily lifts her aviators to the top of her head as she looked down at the ground, not even knowing how to go about what she was going to say. Being with Emily every day as frequent as he does, he knows all of her faces and languages, whether spoken or non-verbal. Something obviously was weighing on her.

"Spit it out, lovechild."

"Something strange happened last night and I have no idea how to explain it."

"Well, we have about…" Salvatore checks his watch with a slight pucker of his lips. "30 minutes before Jenna calls us screaming so this is your chance to try."

"I'm at the house, right?" Emily straightens herself to sit up. "My second place. It's late and I'm in bed with this girl I asked to come through earlier. Everything is fine, we're sleeping, and then all of a sudden…..something snapped."

"Something snapped…"

"When I mean snapped, I mean, something snapped _within_ me. Like I wasn't in control anymore. It was a heavy feeling at first but then I fell asleep. Next thing I know – it's the morning and I'm in the backseat of my car outside."

Salvatore gasps. "The bitch took your organs."

" _Nonono_. I was fine but I had no recollection of how I got there….until I found a knife in the car with me." Emily distances both index fingers away from each other to give a visual of how large the blade of the knife was. "A _big ass_ knife."

Salvatore gasps again. "You took the bitch's organs."

Emily shakes her head with a small sigh. "I couldn't put this together at that moment but as time went on….everything started coming back to me." she began to explain as she rolled up her empty Go-Gurt and threw it in the trash as if she was shooting a free throw.

"When I woke up the first time, I had this heavy feeling within myself. It wasn't as strong so I was able to go back to sleep. Then, I woke up again with the same feeling but it was overpowering this time. I just remember hearing these…..these persistent voices telling me, while I'm moving out of the bed and into the kitchen, to kill her."

Emily glances up and catches Salvatore's eyebrow arch that showcased his now piqued interest in the story.

" _Grab the biggest knife you can find and stab her. Stab her repeatedly in the face. Stab her until she's unrecognizable. Do it. Do it now._ " Emily repeats one of the phrases she recalls being said to her while in her, what she believes, "sleepwalking" state.

"And I was so close to doing it, Sav." Emily rubs her face, throwing her head back as she leaned back into the couch again. "I was _so close_. I mean the urge was so fucking overwhelming."

"Why didn't you?"

"I don't know. Maybe the inner-me that's in here _somewhere_ was having some sort of battle over my body and made me lock my ass inside my car to prevent me from doing it. I just don't know _why,_ though. It….it doesn't make any sense."

Her body slumps, staring right at Salvatore sitting across from her, biting on her bottom lip.

"I never experienced such a blinded force like that before."

"Well…I really can't relate to what you're going through because I always have that "blinding force" except I'm awake and completely aware of what I'm doing so…." he takes his last slurps before also throwing the empty, plastic tube in the garbage.

"Evil loses you again in their attempt to fully bring you to the dark side. Or a darker side than the already dark side you're in, I dunno. But the real question here is what's the deal with you and that house you're in again because I forgot. You only go….?"

"I never bring a girl to my place. It's just a rule I have. _Always go to their place, never your own_." Emily now comfortably relaxes with the change of topic. She didn't want to stay on the near-slaughter incident for too long but she needed to say it out loud to at least one person.

"Because the key here is them seeing what I _want them_ to see when they see _me_. But if you bring them home, if I bring them to the penthouse, they see how I'm living and suddenly become "attached". _Suddenly_ , they want to come over more often. _Suddenly_ , they don't want to leave. _Suddenly_ , they decide to just pop up whenever they feel like it and I can't have that kind of invasion. So….it's always their place."

"And how do you stop them from thinking you're a broke, leeching motherfucker that's homeless?" Salvatore questions as he rests in his office chair, hands behind his head, and feet propped up on the desk.

Emily chuckles at the description before she unconsciously mirrored him, extending her arms and relaxing them on the top of the couch.

"Andrei has this small one story out in Westchester. Paid off. But he _never_ uses it anymore since he moved to where he's at now and it's just sitting there empty. So I asked him if I can have it and just like that, he gave me the keys and allowed me to use it as I see fit as long as I pay the property taxes. Luckily, I see this place almost like a clubhouse in a way. Added some furniture, paintings, shit like that to bring it to life."

"So this _clubhouse_ is where you bring girls to instead of your actual place…"

"Not just _any_ girls. But, if I don't feel like traveling and want someone to come over, yes. It's my home away from home." she smiles.

….

Arriving to her work doing her daily hello's and compliments to those around, it wasn't long after she and Salvatore reached the second floor that Jenna pulled them both into an emergency meeting with the others. With how she urged them, it made Emily suspect something was up.

"Well, as you guys may have already seen, we really walked into a shit-storm. Social media is picking this up faster than I anticipated-"

" _Wait_ , what are you talking about?" Emily stops Jenna from rambling on with the dismissive wave of her hand. "What social media shit-storm?"

"Let me be the one to introduce you to what happens when we don't vet clients properly." Jenna slides the black tablet across the large office meeting table to Emily.

The rest of the guys silently look at Emily for some kind of reaction as she picks up the device, not knowing what Jenna was talking about either. After a few moments of reading to herself, Emily nearly drops the tablet, causing her to fumble with it until she was able to grasp it properly again.

" _WHAT THE FUCK?!"_

"Lemme see, lemme see." On cue, the other men run to surround her, peeking over her shoulder to see what was going on.

"Meet _Fields of Luxury_ , the business that hosts parties for locals, celebrities, and a well-established KKK member and his fucking moronic friends!" Jenna huffs, tossing her arms in the air with frustration. Emily looks up and stares at her with her mouth hung open, speechlessly. Andrei gently pulls the tablet out of her hands to read the article.

"Emily Fields and her increasingly popular entertaining service, _Fields of Luxury_ , recently hosted an extravaganza for Daniel Green, a well-known KKK member from South Carolina, and his associates who wanted to spend the week in Miami."

"Are you fucking serious?!" Emily's voice raises two octaves higher than her normal voice, throwing her hand out with raised shoulders. "We hosted a party for his friend's work promotion or some shit!"

" _Well_ , the work was within the Klan and the promotional was getting away with murdering two black kids so..." Jenna casually slips in her sly remark.

"Jesus Christ." Emily pats the top of her head as she began to pace and tries to process everything.

"You may remember the name, Emily Fields, six years back when she was the first woman to serve and be deployed as an Army Ranger in the 75th Regiment in 2010." Andrei continues but Emily butts in once more.

"Why is my name being put in this shit?!"

"Maybe because this is your company? And you're always people-first with your clients?" Jafaar reminds her with the obvious answer as he takes the tablet from Andrei and begins reading himself.

Emily turns around to face Jenna as she now begins to remove her jacket. "Wh-wh-what are we doing to control this? Twitter or Facebook or-or the news? Did we already release a statement?"

"I already wrote up a statement before you got here." Jenna pulls out her phone. "I just wanted to run by you to see if it's-"

"I don't give a fuck what you wrote, just send it." Emily lobs her jacket on the back of a chair that was pushed up against the table before she grabs her own phone. "Now, I have to do some quick damage control on Twitter."

When opening the app, she was hit with hundreds of notifications on instant. She decided to not tempt herself to see what the people were saying and debated on what she was going to write and how she's going to write it.

TheEmilyFields: _First and foremost, I always have and will continue to condemn the beliefs those have that harm others in ANY way. Especially something as repulsive as the KKK._

TheEmilyFields: _Daniel Green never specified the true meaning behind his cause of celebration but instead masked as "treating a buddy who has just received a work promotion"._

TheEmilyFields: _My company and I would never endorse such people if known beforehand as we have the right to refuse service. However, I do take responsibility for not inspecting the clients beforehand although we've never had to do that._

TheEmilyFields: _We will be looking over our policies and seeing what needs to be reworked to avoid these kind of situations from happening again._

"Jafaar," Emily calls out as she wanders herself towards their Italian white couch and drops herself on top, rubbing her temples with closed eyes.

"Can you please find out this fuckwad's case and see the family that was involved? We need to express our apologies to them. Offer them a free paid week for vacation or some money or _something_."

Upon demand, Jafaar slips his phone out of his pocket right when Emily feels tapping on her head.

"You know what's _soooooo_ funny about this? We're running around with no heads over hosting a party to a Klan member when-" Emily opens her eyes as Salvatore leans into the side of her face. " _We_ _literally kill people for a living._ "

"But I'm not _prejudice_ when I do it, that's the difference. I never agreed with that shit, even on contract." Emily rebuttals with a finger pointed up straight, her eyes following Salvatore who walks around her just to claim a seat on the couch as well.

"Besides, I still have a "worldly" reputation to maintain and being a racist gay is something I'm trying to avoid"

" _Right_ ….but being a sociopathic, homicidal gay is perfectly acceptable." he puts on a great big, tight smile.

"Damage control has to go further than statements released on Twitter. We have to physically show that we do not endorse that message or else we'll have protesters outside those front doors by tomorrow morning." the sound of Jenna's heels click their way to her desk.

"And then it won't be long until the higher ups hear about it…" Andrei slips in.

"But they won't. Because we're cleaning this up _today_." Jenna quickly interjects, shaking her mouse to wake her computer monitor.

"I heard of this event going on tonight. It's organized to give back to charity, most of the more known local companies are showing up to support and donate. That'll be the perfect way to get this off our backs - donating to charities and giving a helping hand. We throw some money at these people, headlines change from " _Fields of Luxury supports the KKK_ " to " _Fields of Luxury donates $50,000 to enter charity name here_ ". You can even bring up that one project you created."

"Fine. Reserve us. We're all going." Emily tosses all the weight off her shoulders, allowing any suggestion to become the game plan. With a low groan, she didn't care how things were fixed or what has to be done. The last thing she needs on her back is unnecessary drama to add onto her already unpredictable life.

….

Double doors are opened by suited greeters when they arrived and walked into the beautiful decorated ballroom hall rented out in one of the more upscale hotels in Miami. Emily briefly thanks the gentlemen as she entered the room followed by the rest of her circle, making their presence known on-time instead of fashionably late. All for the brownie points to start off good, of course.

Wearing her black and gold, tailored jumpsuit with a plunging V-neck that shows off her golden skin and chest, the height given by Emily's heels along with a black cape to match her outfit definitely created the sense of superiority among those she was surrounded by. As a piano plays delicately in the distance, she skims the area, the soft white and purple lights illuminate the large, elegant room that swarmed with all kinds of people: the seemingly important, charities representatives, workers, and others. Although she would rather be laying down, hands rested down her sweats, watching re-runs of Seinfeld, Emily had an obligation that now forced her to fake it and fake it well.

"We still have an hour before everything kicks up." Jenna walks up to Emily's side in a tight black dress of her own, opening a schedule pamphlet of tonight's events. "Just know sometime during, you will be asked about you know what. Answer exactly how we practiced. Short and sweet. Nothing more, nothing less. _Especially, nothing more._ "

"I'm going to get some food in the meantime." Salvatore walks off abruptly without another word.

"Same." Andrei follows after him, adjusting his suit jacket.

"There are some women that obviously need my attention so excuse me, losers." Jafaar cockily steps away from the girls with a sway in his walk, stuffing his hand in his pocket as he scopes out his first victim.

Jenna rolls her eyes, knowing that it was just seconds before everyone would split up and do their own thing. She turns over the pamphlet, reading the words printed on the back as Emily examines the scene with quick eyes similarly to a cat narrowing her focus on a sound.

"There are a few places we can invest in tonight. I think we should sit down for a minute and carefully plan out what should go where."

Emily nods her head, not even bothering to look in Jenna's direction.

"Yes…and we will but give me a second. I'll be right back." her hand lingers lazily on Jenna's shoulder before she walks off, barely getting her last word out before she moved one foot in front of the other.

Jenna watched Emily hopelessly with a large sigh, folding up the pamphlet just as a smiling caterer walked past her. Her swift hand reaches for a glass of champagne off the boy's tray, downing a small gulp right off the bat.

The tapping of Emily's heels reduce to gradual patters as the soft piano she heard upon arriving comes to a slow end with the remaining notes being played. A couple people around not engaging in conversations give low and quiet applauds to the performance with bright smiles before they ease back into their own thing.

"Well, would you look at this…." Emily approaches the white grand piano with a sly smirk. "The goddess not only eats human food but she participates in human services as well. Your blending game is quite superb. I bet no one even knows your little secret." she whispers.

"Ah, waiter." Alison glances up at Emily with almost a sigh of relief. "Can you get me a drink, please? Something light, I'm a bit parched. Thank you."

Emily stared down at the blonde who began stretching out her fingers, looking away from her but at the crowd of people mingling around her. Did she seriously believe she was a waiter? Did she already forget who she was or did the change in environment made her unrecognizable? Emily subtly squinted, not knowing if this was a joke or not, however, she turns around and does as she's asked. Just for the humor of it all.

As Emily walks away, a tiny smile creeps on Alison's face but she quickly wipe its existence and slid her innocent face back into place when she hears oncoming footsteps her from behind. She turns her head to see Emily with a glass of champagne as asked.

"Thank you." she gratefully reaches for the half-filled glass when Emily pulls back, gaining a quizzical look from Alison.

"You sure you want to accept a drink from a stranger?" Emily raises a brow. "Danger rule number one. I could have drugged it - make you vulnerable and weak so I can take you home and do very bad things to you, _Alison_."

The emphasis of her name, the way it rolled off her tongue created a warm shiver that lit up her back. It was almost as if Emily said her name like a spell, knowing it would create some effect on her. They lock eyes, growing in intensity by the second, and that's when Alison noticed something was different. Both her eyes are brown.

"I'll take my chances." Alison holds the contact as she takes a sip of the alcohol. The challenging aspect of Alison seemed to be always on the heel of Emily's actions. With the teasing undertone, it made Emily want to know why. The true want of knowing why Alison is just as sharp was strictly because it caused her to work harder. But it's okay. Work hard always ends in sweet payoffs.

"So, what are you doing here?" Emily flips the subject onto another serious inquiry she had. "Decided to grace the public with your apparent musical talent?"

Alison takes her time to answer, shrugging lightly as she swallowed her sip. "Someone's gotta do it, right? Soothe the people with a few stroke of these keys? I heard that's what humans like anyway."

" _Well_ , I want to say you look gorgeous tonight but you probably already knew that." Emily's eyes begin traveling all over Alison's frame like an artist deciphering an art piece.

Sitting on the piano stool, her yellow off-the-shoulder, high-low dress complimented her body well. The short length in the front gave Emily the view of her polished and crossed fair legs. Her blonde hair was curled and placed in a tussled ponytail to show off her neck and the small necklace that dangled from it. She elegantly sat at the piano as if she owned it, her soft hands with her manicured pink nails wrapped around the champagne glass.

"With the glow in your face to your overall, well put appearance, you easily outshine every woman here."

Alison swivels to the side away from Emily's gaze, covering her smile with another sip of her drink but her cheeks gave it all away. Emily goes to continue with her complimenting roll when a casually dressed guy swoops down beside Alison and whispers something into her ear. After a brief moment, he disappears, changing Alison from her minor blush to a more relaxed face.

"Let me not interfere with your work and get you in trouble." Emily says her last remarks, slowly backing up with her hand somewhat raised. "I'm not even here…"

Alison politely nods her head as she places her champagne on the flat surface above the keys. Her fingers gently travel along the piano to play a random set of notes to warm up for her next song choice.

"But…..since I'm here," Emily steps towards Alison again with near small laugh at herself, her hand slipping into her jumper's pockets. "Do you take requests? I know you probably have a list of what you plan on playing but…."

Emily pulls out a crisp bill and slips it into a small jar that was propped up while Alison was playing, having a few various dollars laying inside.

"I would love the pleasantry of hearing something but only played by your divine hands."

With a sweet smile to seal the deal, the sight of a dimple appears from Alison as she's locked into a stare with Emily's eyes for what felt like the 20th time already. Her fingers continue to softly play nothing in-particular before she decided to respond to the wish.

"Maybe."

…..

Tucking the tips away in her purse that she made from her little gig, Alison grabs her camera for the second job she was employed to do for the night. She tinkers with it for a bit to get the adjustments set up for the best qualities possible. With people of all ages, all looks, and all statuses mingling at the party, everyone who's not having their asses kissed are assigned to a duty to ensure everything goes swell. There are some test shots taken without flash before the settings on the device was changed around once more. Snagging a double job for the night was important mostly because of the recommendation and the trust to only produce perfection. Except the moment when things matter the most, everything goes wrong, of course.

The camera is lifted to eye-level for a hopefully well-adjusted picture when her lens quickly focus on a black and gold fabric that moves into the camera view, suddenly halting the capture button being pressed.

Alison peeks to the side of her viewfinder and takes a gander at Emily who was laughing with two other guests off to the side. Staring for a moment, she can't help but chuckle to herself before setting up once more and clicking away several pictures of her.

"Hey-" Alison briefly grabs the attention of her partner for the night as he walked past her with a water bottle in hand. She steps into him, keeping her eyes straight and voice to a minimum.

"Who's that woman over there by the wall?"

"Who?"

"The one with the cape." Alison subtly nods her head in the direction of the two women and man that were in the middle of a conversation, both Emily and another woman wearing black and gold formal attire. Once the partner's eyes notice the sight Alison was referring to, he looks back at her as if she was incompetent.

"How did you get this job if you don't even know the guest? Didn't you do your homework?"

Alison's eyes lazily roll. "I like how you not only didn't answer my question but asked me two questions of your own."

"The tall woman in the black? That's Emily Fields." he leans into her like he was letting her in on a secret. "She's the founder and owner of "Fields of Luxury", one of the fastest growing entertainment businesses in Miami for the past two years - hence _Fields_ of Luxury. The woman next to her is Jenna Marshall, one of her right hand men – or woman, I should say. All the biggest parties in Miami, they were behind it."

Alison eyes stay on Emily, checking her out from the distance. The power that seemed to exude from her presence with her shoulders back and chin held high was incredibly different from the easy going demeanor she had during the dance party.

" _Emily Fields, huh_ …" she slowly nods her head with her tongue pressed in the inside of her cheek.

"Be careful." the partner notices Alison's lingering eyes as he began to walk away. "I heard she's a dyke that bites."

Alison ignores him as he disappears from her side, tapping on her camera.

"Fields of Luxury…Interesting."

…..

After snapping an array of pictures from of the scenery to the people in it, Alison fades away towards a corner to review her work, seeing what is worth keeping and what's needs to be deleted.

"She looks so fucking hot, it's unreal."

"Then talk to her! How many times do I have to say it!"

"And say what? Like how do you just go up and start a conversation? Talk about the weather? Plus, she's WAY out of my league. She'd probably think I was a valet girl or something."

Alison's ears pick up a conversation already in progress and discreetly shifts her eyes to the backs of two girls standing in front of her. She doesn't care to eavesdrop on what they were saying but it did sound interesting seeing that they were talking about someone in the area. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to listen, she tells herself as she drops her sights back down to the camera, still going through her gallery.

"You're beautiful and she would notice that right away, trust me. Besides, when I met her that one night at Baskin Robbins, she was really cool when I asked for a picture. I heard her being mean were just rumors from times she was caught on a bad day." the shorter girl explains to the other one would assume was her friend. Just from their voices alone, Alison pegged them to be younger girls in their early 20's.

"I heard she's really good in bed, though. Like extremely good." said taller friend responds.

"Where did you hear that?"

"I heard it from Gina who heard from Jessie who got it from London Reyes' Instagram live. Someone asked her if she really did hook up with Emily Fields and what it was like and she said that she doesn't kiss and tell but that she was better than most guys she's been with. She also basically insinuated that she was very skillful with her tongue which is funny because Faith from that one show on MTV said that too. Color me fucking interested."

Alison stops completely, her eyes staring straight ahead with no motion as she completely absorbed herself into the private conversation. She wondered who these girls were drooling over but the moment she thought she heard Emily's name being spoken, her curiosity kicked up 20 notches. She had a good sense to ask them to elaborate more on what they knew about Emily but she figures they're going to do it anyways so she stays quiet when the shorter friend speaks up again.

"I heard that she's has super connections too. Like the people she knows and stuff. I heard that she has friends in the mob and knows people in the mafia. She has respect among the bigger guys and because of that, nobody messes with her."

"How would she know the mob? There's no mobs here."

"Isn't she from New York?"

"I thought she was from Georgia."

Minding his business with a small bowl of chocolate covered fruits on toothpicks, Andrei can't help but to hear these younger girls theorize on Emily the way they were. He noticed how they were dressed less elegant than the guests yet still appropriate so he guessed that they were charity volunteers that came to help raise money. And like a shark to a bloody victim, he made his move to have a little fun.

"I've heard all kinds of things about her." he casually enters their conversation with a calm and easy voice as he sticks a pineapple in his mouth and begins chewing. "I heard that when she enters a room, everyone shuts up immediately. No matter what you were saying or doing, if she walks through a door, everyone in that room becomes statues."

The girls turn to look at Andrei, not daring to stop him or ask who he was but give him their full attention since he was spilling interesting, unknown information.

"Nobody looks her in the eyes and nobody speaks until she acknowledges their presence. And sometimes…..if it was one of those days, she would walk into a room and just start _slapping_ niggas."

"Really?!" both girl gawk at the random stranger in disbelief, blown away by the drastic difference of personality they thought they knew.

The comical way of how they both leaned into him with their mouths dropped and eyes wide made Andrei almost break character instantly. However, he held back his laughter as much as he could and decided to keep his eyes away from theirs so he won't crack.

" _Mhmmm_." he clears his throat. "Backhanded with rings and all."

"Is that because of her life in the military or something? Why would people allow that?" the short, redheaded girl asks nosily, not understanding the workings of Emily's apparent behavior.

"It's because she's so respected, nobody says anything. Everyone knows you must have fucked up in some kind way if she just slaps you, so nobody questions it."

"I told you she's in the mob!" the redhead turns to her friend.

"Oh no, she's not in the mob. That's just a stupid rumor which is the first time I've heard of that." Andrei relaxes from his tickled attitude and bites into his chocolate strawberry. "It's because she had money. Money equals power, power equals respect. Simple math."

The taller, brunette friend turns back to face the direction of Emily who stood talking to someone. "Shit…..that's kind of hot, to be honest…"

Alison's eyes never leaves the guy who abruptly entered the girls' conversation. She glanced at him up and down, trying to assess everything he said and if he had any kind of weight. How would he know this kind of information? Who even was he? Her mind swirled with unanswered questions until her attention snapped further out to a loud, sudden voice.

" _Why? Why? Why should I? Why should I?"_

Emily's lips tighten into a forced smile as she notices eyes are starting to land on her.

"Lower your voice, Victoria." she mutters through her fake smile, trying to make it seem like everything was under control.

" _No_ , I'm _not_ lowering my voice. I asked you a question." the woman continues to speak a few volumes higher than usual conversing levels.

"You want me to talk to you and I will but you _will lower your voice_ and _stop_ making a scene." Emily keeps her voice extremely low, still holding a trying smile.

"This is the only way I can get your attention now so if I have to get loud for you to recognize me, I will."

Beautifully dressed along with everyone else, this mysterious brunette holds a defensive stance with a drink in her hand. With her voice projecting louder and louder as their little back and forth continues, Emily and Victoria become the center of attention as guests start to quiet down and stare at them. Emily bitterly drops her head, balling her hand into a fist before quickly releasing.

"Don't you fucking embarrass me here, Victoria. _I swear to God_ -"

"Why is it so hard to have a fucking conversation with you, Emily?" Victoria continues on, not interested in Emily's warnings to stop. "Why is it so fucking hard?"

"Victor-"

"What? You're mad because I'm "embarrassing" you? Because you want to seem all high and mighty in front of these bastards?" Victoria turns and points at everyone staring at her with no shame whatsoever before turning back to Emily who is beginning to turn red in the face.

"I don't give a fuck about any of this. I really don't. You want to paint me as a "crazy bitch" to everyone? Guess what? I'm going to live up to it, honey. But you know what's _funny_?!" she purposely yells as she glances up at the ceiling with a laugh.

"It's actually _hilarious_ how you're telling everyone I'm a "crazy bitch" but then when it gets late and you feel alone, you call me wanting to fuck." her lips pout unsympathetically as her eyes narrow to a squint. "Because that's all you ever want to do, right? Fuck and celebrate the KKK?"

"We are _NOT_ doing this here, you fucking rabid _lunatic_." Emily's whole body begins to shake as she steps up to Victoria with a harsh and throaty whisper through her gritted teeth.

"Fuck you, you disrespectful bitch." Victoria brings Emily back down in that exact moment by spiking her drink into her face, causing gasps to be heard from everyone watching.

The entire ballroom becomes silent with the only thing Emily being able to hear is her heartbeat rapidly pounding in her ears and the soft patter of the drink falling to the floor. She wipes the alcohol out of her eyes with face, hair, and outfit soaked in red wine as she takes a deep and long breath.

"If I feel like I want to fucking talk, I'm going to fucking talk. I don't care who is watching. You can be mad all you want but this was totally preventable." Victoria continues to rant as she now has the floor. "You want to ignore me, this is what happens when I'm ignored. I bet you're going to listen to me now."

Emily braces a smile, the corners of her lips upturning on her drenched face like a super villain, spooking Victoria at the sight of it.

"You want to talk? _Let's talk_." Emily grabs a hold of Victoria's arm, squeezing it with immense tightness as she forces her forward to lead the way.

As if everything was okay and normal, Emily politely smiles and nods at the people she bypasses, even an idle caterer.

"Hello, can you take this? _Thank you so much, sweetheart_." she takes the glass from Victoria's hand and gives it to the young male before she walks them both to a nearby door, not at all knowing where it leads. She twists it open, seeing it to be some kind of storage room, and pushes Victoria in before she shuts the door behind them.

The hall stays awkwardly silent with nobody having any idea of how to recover from such scene when a loud clearing of a throat is heard.

" _Alright_! I think it's time to start the charity event!" Jafaar claps, trying to move along the night and force everyone to not dwell on Emily. "Let's get to the things that really matters, huh!"

"Yes. Welcome, everybody to our first ever Give Back event," an announcer over the microphone begins the night after Jafaar's push and diverts the crowd's attention elsewhere.

When out of the sight of most, Jafaar's eyes widen in disbelief as he fast steps it to Jenna, Andrei, and Salvatore assembling into a circle.

" _What. The. Fuck_!" Jafaar whispers, his face animated and expressive. "Who the fuck was that?!"

"Remember Victoria? That girl that destroyed Emily's McLaren and threw paint inside it?" Andrei reminds the group who suddenly all catch a lightbulb moment at the same time.

"Oh! That stupid bitch?!" Salvatore pushes back his suit jacket and places his hands on his hips. "Oh, she's dead. Like _dead_ dead. I hope Emily beats her ass in there."

"This night couldn't have gone any worse!" Jenna groans as she rubs her face, internally panicking at how to fix this situation. "We were supposed to diffuse the spotlight on us, not turn it into fucking floodlights!"

…

A rusted creak sounds as the bathroom door is pushed open.

"Occupied!" Emily calls out over the running sink water when a familiar face turned the corner.

"I thought I had that door locked." she grumbles she twists the water off, taking the wet paper towel and looking into the mirror, rubbing her forehead of the wine staining her skin.

"Looked pretty rough out there. Thought to come check on you." Alison softly explains her presence, fixing her purse on her shoulder, checking over Emily's tragic look up close as she takes small steps further into the clean and decorated public hotel restroom.

"I'd rather you didn't. I look a mess." Emily throws down the paper towel on the sink counter, frustrated as she turns her face away from Alison's gaze. "I would say this is the most humiliated I've ever been but that would be a lie. I really wish you didn't have to see that. This is not how I wanted to meet you for the second time."

"I would assume you would be humiliated…" Alison's head bows.

With the silence between them, Emily glances at Alison through the mirror when she realized she was toying with a professional camera in her hand that was strapped around her neck. All of a sudden her heart fell as it came to her who Alison might be.

"Please do not tell me you caught that."

"I did." she nods with a serious yet honest face. "Photos."

"Can you delete them?" Emily suddenly urges her with desperation dripping from her tired voice. "I cannot have that being sold off to magazines and news outlets. I'm already battling slander as it is. I can't have that circulating as well. Please don't send those."

Although she was being genuine and didn't want to deal with the gossip that would surround this, it was only a half concern as her desperation came from much deeper. Being a part of the agency she was, when she was given the assignment to work with her circle in Miami, they all were told about the monitoring they will endure to see how well they were up keeping their work and secret. If they got a whiff of any of them creating drama that could blow their operation and expose all involved, they would have to deal with consequences coming from their hand. And that was something Emily never wants to experience, especially when it's avoidable.

Alison stares at Emily and she observes not only the pleading in Emily's face but in her eyes. They weren't both brown again as she saw her contact container on the sink, leaving her with her soul-grabbing grey eye that begged for mercy. Alison looks down at the camera before she unhooked it from her neck and handed it to Emily, not saying anything.

Emily grabs it and instantly turns on the device, going straight into the gallery to see the several pictures she had took pop up first. She didn't want to relieve the moment by looking over the photos so, without hesitation, she deleted the files.

"Thank you." she graces Alison as she gave back her camera.

Still in silence, Alison straps the camera around her neck and moved towards the large marble counter, removing her purse from her shoulder to the sink. Emily watches her curiously when she pulled out what appeared to be wipes. She opened up the cover and pulled out a black damp wipe and steps to Emily, who wasn't sure what she was planning on doing.

Alison reached for her and gently swiped her cheek, removing both her makeup and the wine stain.

"What did you do to her in there?" she finally spoke up, everything stern and somber.

"Nothing. Just…scared her into leaving me alone and stop being a pain in my ass." Emily lowly replied as she continued to let Alison clean her face. "Hopefully it worked because I'll only go through this embarrassment once with her."

It was quiet again and Emily wanted to know what she was thinking. She could tell by her firm face that she was processing something but she didn't know what. If Emily wasn't off on her game and the situation was different, she would have used this moment as a means to flirt but she couldn't. The closeness of Alison and vulnerability that she was in made her feel the exact same way she felt at the party when she removed her sunglasses.

Shy.

How is she catching her in such vulnerable moments so quickly? How is she flipping the tables?

"I certainly learned a lot about you tonight, _Emily Fields_. Why didn't you tell me you were a mini celebrity?"

" **You're obviously hiding something and I want to know what it is." she steps into Emily's personal space, leaning in like she was trying to see through the pitch black tint. "I don't think it's because you're a hotshot so it has to be something else."**

 **Staggering black, Emily clutches her chest with her mouth to the floor. "Ow! You don't think I'm a hotshot?"**

" **Not at all."**

" **I think I'm a hotshot."**

" **I bet your mom tells you that all the time to make you feel good about yourself."**

"You told me you didn't think I was a hotshot, remember?" A small smiles makes way on her face as Alison cleaned her chin. "Plus, if you had called or texted me, I would have. You forgot my number, didn't you?"

"I didn't."

"You totally did just own up to it. You couldn't memorize it like you said you could."

"305-555-9426"

Emily was instantly quieted with the repeat of the number she gave her. Her eyes stayed on Alison despite her not faltering in her serious demeanor and keeping focus on Emily's face and not her eyes.

"If you knew it this entire time….why did you stand me up for nearly two weeks?" Emily asks.

"Does that bother you?" Alison finishes, throwing the makeup wipe in the garbage before she challenged Emily with narrow eyes. "Not getting things the way you want it when you want it?"

"No. No, not at all. Despite what you saw tonight, I hope that doesn't turn you off when I say I would like to have a redo of seeing you again." Emily tries to push through the thorns Alison had guarded up, something that wasn't there earlier. "But alone this time so there isn't any unwanted interruptions. I would really like to get to know you."

"I don't know if I want to be alone with you, if we're being honest." Alison casually remarks as she grabs her things to leave. This shocked Emily. This was not going at all how she liked. She hated having loss of control especially being as methodical as she was with her social interactions.

"I am not violent. I'm not a violent person. _At all_." she emphasizes strongly. "Nothing what people say are true, I swear to you. You have people already spreading lies about who I am and what I represent but that out there…? That was a spiteful person who wants to see me suffer-"

"Why would she want to see you suffer? What did you do to her?" Alison challenges her once more with her arms crossed, not knowing exactly who Emily is or what to believe.

"I swear I didn't do anything to her! We were never in a relationship and I constantly told her I didn't want that but she completely dismissed what I said and got attached. And when she did, I called things quits because I didn't want her to get feelings involved and then end up getting hurt. But ever since then, she's became a nightmare for me."

"If that's true, why did you still call her for sex?"

"That was a blatant lie." Emily clarifies as she grits her teeth, moving back towards the sink where she gripped the counter in irritation. "She knew people were watching and she wanted to make a show for you all. And for anyone that I could possibly be interested in. She's done this before."

She exhales heavily, cocking her head to check Alison from the corner of her eyes when she sees her getting ready to leave.

"Alison!" she jumps, calling out for her just when she had her hand wrapped around the door handle. Emily quickly moves towards the exit door to stop her. "I don't want it to be a month before I see you again. Let me take you out to eat, wherever you want, on me. That way you get to see the _real me_ , not….this me, but the me you saw last time. The me that you liked." She gives her a hopeful smile.

Alison takes a glimpse at Emily, reading her up and down with a face that was not only unreadable but unmoving.

"You should change into something less made up, not uptight like everyone else as if you're doing these people an honor. These people are struggling and you decided to show up to show off. Not a smart move, if you ask me. You're giving back to charities so you should at least look like it. Relaxed and humble."

Without another second given, Alison swings the restroom door open and walks out to continue her work for the night. Emily watches the back of her strut away until the door blocks her view with its closing. The door bursts open again with Jenna startled by how Emily was standing so close already.

"Okay so I have your makeup, some hair products, and new clothes. Just enough time to change before you miss everything. We need to start changing now."

Looking over at the designer clothes Jenna have folded over her arm, Emily takes a breather as bites the inside of her cheek.

"Yeah…..I think we're gonna have to have a change of plans."

" **Wh….wha-what?"**

" **On your knees. Now."**

" **Fields? Emily….? How is this possible?"**

" **KNEES! NOW!"**

 **Dropping the nail clipper, Lance raises both his hands defenselessly and falls to his knees as ordered. His sea green eyes have yet to blink as he gawked at the dead woman that stood before him in his own home. Everything about her looked so….different. Is this real life? Emily was supposed to be dead.**

" **The fastest way to get yourself killed is by speaking when I didn't ask for it. There is nothing you could possibly say that will prevent the inevitable from happening." Emily cocks the fully loaded gun back as her menacing, low voice shakes Lance just much, if not more than the sound of the gun itself.**

 **There was something about her voice that spooked him. It was gritty, hoarse, and direct. A voice that told him that she wasn't bluffing with the mentions of death threats. Lance's mind speeds through hundreds of thoughts in the matter of seconds. One of the being how he can get through this alive.**

" **Where is your phone?"**

 **Yanked from his mind, he blinks repeatedly as he looks up at Emily before he suddenly gets lost in her eyes. He is held captive there with his mouth hung open in shock. It was as if he was locked in the gaze of Medusa, every motor function he had being frozen in time.**

" **WHERE IS YOUR PHONE?!" Emily barks aggressively, snapping him from his trance.**

" **It's-it's….it's charging in the bathroom." Lance finally sputters out.**

" **Stand up and get it" Emily directs him with her handgun. "Any quick or funny movements will get you a bullet right through your heart, do you understand me?"**

 **Lance gulps down hard with his increasingly drying mouth, nodding his head and moving to his feet at a gradual speed. Instead of turning his back to her, he backs his way into the bathroom until he's near his phone. Emily waves him to hand over his cell, making sure he doesn't try anything.**

" **Can't have any distractions today, can we?" With one hand still aiming and the other tinkering with Lance's phone, she demands him back on his knees to which he complies with.**

" **Emily…..we…..we thought you were dead." he speaks softly, still having a hard time swallowing.**

" **Cut the bullshit, Lance." Emily scoffs as she tosses his phone onto his bed. "I know all about you, your corrupt friends in power, and the deals you were making overseas with the so-called enemies we were fighting against."**

 **Lance's eyes widen as his mouth begins to move, unable to create a defense for himself with his nervous stutter.**

" **I-I don't-I didn't-"**

" **DO NOT LIE TO ME." Emily's words sound off like booming cracks of thunder as she abruptly rages, stepping up to Lance and pistol-whipping him with immense force. Falling over to the side, Emily grabs the front of his shirt and tugs him back up, pressing the cold barrel of the gun to his forehead.**

" **I'M THE LAST PERSON YOU WANT TO FUCK WITH, STEVENS."**

" **Yesyesyesyes, I'm….I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Lance's body shakes uncontrollably as he waves his trembling hands, locking gazes with her cold eyes once more but this time more up-close and personal than he would like.**

" **I'm someone who lacks patience and doesn't like to drag things out so I'm just going to go straight for the finale."**

 **What he thought sounded like a growl rumbles from the depths of Emily's throat before she removes the gun from his flesh and stands up, composing herself with deep breaths.**

" **For the past year or so I've been obsessed with you. More so over the past few months. Crazily obsessed. I've dreamt of this moment countless of times. Being inside this house….running my hands past these walls…..imagining how your blood would soak into this hardwood floor after I slice you open."**

 **A smile slides across Emily's face and she can physically hear Lance's breath getting caught in his throat. That hint of fear fueled her like no other.**

" **With all of those thoughts, dreams,** _ **fantasies**_ **, sometimes I would get ahead of myself and walk in when I know I'm not supposed to. But….I just can't help myself, Lance." she groans mockingly with a faux sympathetic frown. "Standing over you while you and your wife sleep, thinking of all the tempting possibilities."**

" **You're Gracie…" Lance gasps with the very thing that bothered him the whole week starting to click with that Emily was saying. "You're who Daniel saw. Not my daughter but you."**

" **He caught me in a drooling haze but don't worry, I took care of him. Tucked him back in bed and reminded him to eat his veggies in the morning since I know he doesn't like to eat carrots despite how much Lillian asks him to."**

"… **You…"**

" _ **Yes**_ **." Emily crouches down to his eye level with a large, almost mouth-watering grin.**

" **I have been watching you. Watching you all. I've had my eyes planted** _ **everywhere in this house**_ **. I already told you.** _ **I'm obsessed**_ **." she laughs tauntingly, pointing and tapping the gun briefly on her temple.**

" **I'm sick in the head, Lance. I can't help but feel these eager, revengeful** _ **urges**_ **."**

 **As much as he tried to stay strong, tears flood onto Lance's face, making him drop his head shamefully. Like a curious animal, watching the body language of unfamiliar creature, Emily lowers the gun and her curious eyes follow Lance's every move until he lifts his head back up with his nose began to run.**

" **Please…..** _ **please**_ **don't kill my wife and son, please."**

" **Oh, I'm not going to kill them." Emily reassures firmly yet with a calming coo. "Daniel is a product of his bastard father. That's not his fault. And Lillian is just a working mother. She has no idea of the things her husband does. Your death is on you and only on you, Lance."**

 **Lance sucks in a choppy breath, wiping his face with his palm as Emily stands and towers over him like a titan.**

" **You know why I picked this day to kill you?" she simply asks, switching up her demeanor from badgering to stiff. "Not yesterday, not tomorrow, or the next few weeks but today? It's because today was supposed to be a very special day two years ago. Do you know what day it was?"**

" **No…"**

" **I was scheduled to come home on this day. After working long and hard in Afghanistan, I was** _ **supposed**_ **to be on the flight back to Georgia. I would arrive at the airport and have my girlfriend run into my arms like a Rom-Com movie with the camera spinning around us. It was** _ **supposed**_ **to be rainbows and sunshine. I would go home to a home-cooked feast that I haven't had in ages, with only my favorite dishes. Then the night would end in some stellar love-making from yours truly and a proposal - something I'd be planning for a while. All of that was** _ **supposed**_ **to happen…"**

 **Emily glares at Lance, slowly gritting her teeth behind her lips and raises her gun at him again, causing him to flinch with his hands shielding his face.**

" **But** _ **you**_ **, specifically, stopped it.** _ **You did**_ **."**

" **Emily, I am so, so sorry, p-please-"**

" **And because of you, I didn't go home. I didn't get a home-cooked meal. I didn't have any form of loving contact and my girlfriend is now my ex that I almost killed the moment I saw her." Emily explains with her face almost robot-like - blank and stony-eyed, not at all blinking.**

" **But I'll tell you what I** _ **did**_ **get. I** _ **did**_ **live in a rotting room that was small and cold with a cot that was pissed on. I** _ **did**_ **receive molded food on the days I did get to eat after being starved for days prior. I** _ **did**_ **receive physical contact but it came in the form of beatings from not-so-nice men who took turns on me. You changed my future with no remorse for my family - just a halfass sorry and pain. And as a return for all you've done for me, I will change yours in the same merciless way."**

 **Lance begins to beg for his life with the mixture of crying and stuttering gasps, putting his hands in a prayer gesture as Emily walked behind him and pressed the gun into the back of his head, ready to shoot him execution style.**

" **Do you want an open or a closed casket? Or are they gonna cremate your old ass?" Emily questions coldly, blocking out his pleading cries. "See, your answer denotes how you die. If you're going to have an open casket, I might stray away from blasting off a chunk of your head. Not for your sake, though. I just don't want to put extra work on the  
morticians who's going to have to be responsible for making you look presentable."**

" _ **Please**_ **! I am so sorry for what you went through, Emily!** _ **I am**_ **! Let's talk this out so I can see what I can do for you!** _ **Please**_ **! My son, my little boy, needs me! My daughter needs me! M-m-my wife needs me! I beg for your mercy on my soul.** _ **God, please**_ **. Let me help you. I can help you, Emily. Whatever you want just please….don't kill me like this.** _ **Please, please, please, Emily, please**_ **."**

 **Lance closes his eyes tightly, anticipating the bullet he knew was coming for him. All he can do is pray inaudibly to himself, asking God for forgiveness.**

 **Seconds pass by and nothing. Nothing but harsh breathing and sniffling.**

 **Lance opens one eye as his hands tremble uncontrollably by his face, feeling uneasy by the eerie silence coming from behind him.**

" **If I were you, I would race to your son's school. Something tells me in six minutes, something bad is going to happen to him. If you want to save him-" Emily orders through a harsh whisper.**

" **You better run."**

 **Without any hesitation, Lance jumps up and grabs his phone before he bolts out of the room. Emily stays right on his tail with her gun aimed from the second floor as he trips and falls down the stairs. He recovers quickly, scrambling to his feet and snatching his car keys that was hung on the wall. He almost rips the garage door open when he unlocks his car door and jumps in. Only seconds pass before the automatic garage gate is lifted and tires squeal out in a speed demon kind of hurry into the streets.**

 **Emily clicks her tongue with a head shake, tickled inside as she watches his car disappear from the living room window.**

" **Sad. Just proves that he wasn't listening when I said I wasn't going to hurt Daniel and that he's the only one going to die today. Hmm….I wonder when he'll realize he's frantically driving in a car with no breaks."**

 **xxx**

 **A lot happened in this update, getting insight to both Emily's past and now present. Looks like something you have to pull apart and decipher to help you understand a little bit more about this story and the people within it.**

 **Alison has no idea who she's mingling with…but apparently, neither does Emily.**


	8. Chapter 4: 'Cause I'm Not Just Anybody

**Who said I wasn't going to update until next year, hm? Check mate.**

CHAPTER #4: I'm Not Just Anybody

 _Italics means thoughts, emphasized word or action._ **Bolded is a flashback.** (….) is an indication that time has passed.

" **A tragic accident leading to a fatal and gruesome death has shaken up the entire city of San Antonio as a driver was decapitated after crashing into a semi-truck this morning. The driver has since been identified as Lieutenant General Lance Stevens, a husband and father of two. Deputies at the scene said the impact of the crash tore off the top and side of Steven's Honda Accord where he was then decapitated and ejected from the car. Witnesses say Stevens slammed into the back of the semi after what appeared to be erratic speeding coming down this street behind me." the on-the-screen news woman informs the public as she stands on the sidewalk in front of the crime scene.**

" **He had to be doing at least 100 miles per hour.** _ **At least**_ **100." a young man tells the reporter. "He was swerving in and out of lanes. I was thinking that this guy was either drunk or falling asleep at the wheel. I knew it was going to end bad because of that big ass-oh, my bad- that random truck that was just sitting in the middle of the street. People had to go around it because someone just left it there with the caution lights on."**

" **It sounded like an explosion. At first I didn't know where it came from but it was so loud and when I had turned around – oh my god. That scene will be forever imprinted in my memory." an older woman clutching her chest tells her story as another witness.**

" **As for the driver of the semi, there appears not to be one. The truck was stationed in the middle of the street with no one knowing exactly why. Police were called to move it when Stevens crashed before they got there. The investigators are wondering if alcohol or drugs played a factor in this accident."**

 **Leaning back into her bench couch as she sipped on a bottle of liquor she swiped from his house, Emily sits in her RV, listening to the disheartening breaking news that was quickly spreading to all the major, local news outlets.**

 **People say revenge isn't sweet but they clearly never had it with a glass of Jim Beam.**

 **One down, one more to go.**

After an eventful night of insomnia back in her condo, Emily's sleep was merely a nap before she had awoken around 9am – only catching three hours of rest. She goes through her daily morning routine as Lucy prepared her coffee to get her started. It's been two days since the charity event, seeing Alison again and she has yet to receive a text or call from her despite asking. Emily can take a hint when she sees one and figured, regardless of all their interactions, Alison just isn't as interested as she was. And that was fine.

A world-known travesty that she would pass up a time with her but fine, nonetheless.

Stretching her arms as she walks in her red and black, satin kimono robe that stopped at her mid-thighs, Emily enters her kitchen craving fruit this particular morning.

"Lucy," Emily calls to her A.I. companion as she opens her fridge door. "What would you say is you-"

 _Knock. Knock. Knock._

Emily was abruptly cut off with three heavy, rhythmic knocks at her door. Glancing at the screen on the surface of her refrigerator door while she closed it, Emily takes a notice at the time and wonders if she had gotten any texts from her friends saying they were coming over. She tightens the rope of her robe that wasn't baring much clothes underneath and makes her way to see who has decided to come visit her. Upon standing behind the door and checking the peephole, the man waiting on the other side wasn't her friends at all. Matter of fact, she's never seen this guy before. She unlocks and opens the door anyway, believing he's probably one of the workers in this building.

"Hello. How can I help you?" Emily asks politely as she scans the young man up and down.

He clears his throat, never looking up directly at her with his hat covering most of his face. "You're Emily Fields, right?"

Immediately, things were not adding up to Emily. Within seconds she sees weird red flags waving as she noticed he was not wearing any kind of uniform, yet a rugged attire with a dark zip up hoodie, dark denim jeans, and a baseball cap. He carried a men's messenger bag on his shoulder with his head still slightly bowed. His average build and stature wasn't threatening but his presence wasn't welcoming neither.

"…. _Who's asking_?" Emily questioned with caution as she gripped the handle of the door firmly.

It is then when the guy rose his head, showing his face to Emily as if she was supposed to recognize him. His jaw clenched when he makes direct eye contact with her, his brown eyes sparked with barely contained wrath.

"The boyfriend of the girl you've been _fucking_."

Deciding that this moment was quickly sliding into dangerous territories with this sudden allegation, she goes to correct him when he swiftly pulls a gun out of the waistband of his pants.

"Shut up." his tense voice growls at her. Emily's face hardens as she lifts her chin up, keeping her eye on the gun. She slowly lifts her hands to where he could see it, surrendering to him.

"Step back. Now."

Following his order simply with no resistance, she steps back as he steps in, closing and locking the door behind him, never letting Emily out of his sight. Emily slowly strolls back all the way to her couch where she takes a seat comfortably, crossing her legs as she makes sure her robe isn't indecently exposing her anywhere.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he says confused at the sight of her and her reaction to him. He imagined some kind of immediate power imbalance, Emily at his mercy as he held all the control. What Emily was doing was the opposite. Completely different from what he expected.

" _Well_ ….if you're going to kill me, I at least want to be at ease." she tells him honestly, taking a hair-tie from her wrist and putting her hair up into a bun.

In the minute they've shared, Emily has already assessed the situation and this "boyfriend" from top to bottom. There's a slight sense of "unhinged" impulsiveness radiating from him and he most likely had definite plans on killing her. She had no leverage of any sort. However, in the back of her mind, she knows she has a weapon close by.

Just…. _not close enough._

" _You_ …." he grits his teeth as he takes a few steps towards the couch to minimize the space in between them. " _I know_ you've been sleeping with my girlfriend. For a good time now. I don't know how these other guys operate but _I don't play that shit_."

"I think-"

"SHUT UP!" He roars over her, quieting Emily just how he wanted. She rests her hands on top of her lap, almost gesturing him to continue in a silent manor. This began to irritate him.

"Are you comfortable enough?" he asks. "Comfortable enough to die? With one shot, one bullet….I'm going to paint this entire living room with your worthless, _tainted_ blood. I already have my passport and flight set. I'll be out of the country before your body even gets to the morgue."

Emily squints at him, " _Really? Just like that?_ "

He cocks the gun, marching directly in front of the couch so his aim was now at eye level. " _Just like that_."

Unmoved, Emily softly sighs, scratching her head before leaning back into the cushions of her couch. Every little movement out of the "ordinary" Emily did had his blood begin to boil. He is looming over her with a loaded gun and she treated him as if he was getting ready to entertain her with story time. He wanted her to beg, to cry, to act like her life was in his hands as it is but she didn't. She was not phased in the slightest.

And to tell you the truth, she didn't even have a clue as to who this "girl" was.

"What the fuck is your problem, huh?" he snapped at her sense of laziness, jabbing the gun in her direction. "You're really going to die over a girl? Over some slut? You're willing to lose your life over that?"

"I've nearly died over simpler things." Emily rests one arm on the top of her couch, not straying away from their intense eye contact. "But the thing is…you're mad. I see that. I see _you_."

" _You don't see shit._ You don't know a damn about me."

"I know you're an average looking guy. And if you're coming after me, that means your girl…. _has to be pretty attractive_. So, if I'm doing my math correctly, you have an attractive girl with an average guy. In Miami." she stares at him before she narrows her eyes, almost challenging him.

"You've always been afraid of losing her to someone else, right?"

"Shut up." he orders her in a low and warning tone.

Emily nods, her answer being confirmed. "You feel like she's out of your league. That she could have anyone in the city and she chose you. You don't know why but she did. But you…you've always had doubts about her. You know for certain when she goes out, she's cheating on you."

"I said shut. up." the young man's hands begin to tremble as his face reddens with rage. A vein begins to throb on the side of his neck but Emily knows she's getting too hot to stop now.

"And one day your suspicions prove you right. You find either a text or maybe a naked picture that was never sent to you….and you lose it." her voice stays calm and leveled, talking to the gunman as if it was a friendly one-on-one chat, knowing every word she says is burning his flesh like a brand. " _Because you're right._ You follow her one day and you see it with your own eyes. _She's cheating._ "

Emily could see his face visibly shake as he stared down at her, not one blink interrupting his blazing glare. She tries for second base.

"What's your name?" she harmlessly asks.

" _Fuck you_." he spits at her. The low snarl of his voice now quivering to a harsh whisper.

"Well, _fuck you_ ….I bet you're a hardworking guy. You bust your ass day in and day out to provide. You're a man, that's what you do. And because you feel like you're lacking in places, you go above and beyond for your girl. And to see her cheating? Cheating on everything you've ever created? That'll drive you to kill."

"You fucking bitch! I said to shut up!" he finally topples over with ire and places his finger on the trigger. At that exact moment, Emily jumps up and stands to him face to face.

"Now, here's your chance." she drops her voice gravely in a cold manor. With his slow reaction time, Emily quickly grabs a hold of the gun and forces him to press it against her forehead. "Kill me." she orders him, ready in her stance. "Make your statement to the world that you, f _uck you man_ , is someone NOT TO BE FUCKED WITH."

The cold barrel coming in contact with her warm flesh gives Emily goosebumps as it shakes unsteadily. The young man was so caught off guard by Emily's sudden and extreme reaction that he doesn't know how to quite react himself. He stares into her piercing eyes when he observed, for the first time, Emily dual eye color. The lack of light inside the condo mixed with his vision growing in this pulsing red haze, he never noticed one eye being brown and the other being as grey as new chrome. Was she wearing contacts?

"DO IT!" Emily's impatience manifests into a bark, scaring the gunmen who felt like he was the one being strong-armed into a forceful situation. "You just found out your girlfriend cheated on you with another person who isn't you! She cheated on you with another woman! How fucking sick is that?! After everything you did for her! Teach _her_ a lesson! Shoot me!"

The boyfriend exhales an unsteady breath and removes the gun from Emily's head. Only to jab the barrel into her chest instead.

"There you go…" Emily coaxes him with a pleased head nod. "Take initiative. This is your story. You're God. You decide who lives…and who dies. And now it's my turn to go, right?"

"Yes." he grits as he tries to hold his ground.

"Then why are you taking so long?"

His eyes drop to her chest with the gun pushed firmly into her kimono, against her bare chest underneath. He cannot keep his hand still as much as he tries but he readies himself anyway. He sharply inhales, clenching his clattering teeth together.

Silent seconds pass by before tears roll down his face, making him lower the gun and bow his head as he begins to sob.

Emily closes her eyes, soundlessly letting out her own held breath before she looked back to the guy.

"I know she's screwing around on me." he cries with his free hand gripping the top of his head. "I saw the texts, the pictures, the fucking receipts with all my money being spent on shit I didn't buy. I followed her one night to a club when she told me she was going to her friend's house and I…. I saw you around her but…..I don't know."

He glances up at Emily, his eyes red and nose running, completely broken down physically and mentally.

"I just picked you out of the crowd."

Emily slowly reaches for the gun to be taking out of his hand. "It's okay. You reached your breaking point…"

"I try. I really do try for her and she does this to me! I loved her and she betrayed me like this!" he angrily vents as he wipes his eyes.

"What's your name? Because I don't think _fuck you_ fits."

"Ma…my name's Matthew."

" _Matthew_ …." Emily puts a gentle and comforting hand on his shoulder. "Give me the gun, please."

When Matthew got daring and pushed the gun into Emily's face, she knew he wasn't going to kill her as he originally thought he was. He still had the safety on. That told her that he probably never handled a gun in his life before today. In addition to her current appearance, most men would have tried to force their way with her since they held the "power". He didn't. With that vulnerability, she knew she could get away with trying a few things. Although, in the back of her head, the thought of death was right there, front and center. That there was a chance the gun would still fire despite the safety lock. Then again, she didn't get to where she is now by playing through her life carefully.

The moment she slips the gun out of his hand, she jerks him into her chest, allowing him to cry on her as if she knew him. Feeling the warmth of her body, Matthew wraps his arms around her tightly as he weeps.

"I suggest you save yourself the criminal record and move out." Emily suggests to him softly. "If the place is in your name, you kick the bitch out. Then leave. Go somewhere else. Get out of the city and get a fresh start in a different location."

Matthew nods his head through his sniffles. Emily takes a mental guess - he couldn't be older than 23, 24 years old.

"I know things are hard right now but, as for another thing, Matthew…" Emily continues.

"Y-Yes?" he asks with his face still leaned against Emily's soft robe.

He suddenly feels the steel pressed against the side of his head with the clicking of the safety being unlocked. His entire body stiffens, his heart dropping to the balls of his feet as Emily slowly allows him to back off her with her hawk-grip of a hold on his shoulder.

They now looked at each other, eye to eye.

"Just because you didn't kill me doesn't mean I won't kill you."

Matthew stammers as his trembling hands positioned in a prayer gesture reach up to his face. "Oh God, p-p-please. I'm so sorry." he begs for her mercy.

With an unkind and expressionless face that made Matthew truly fearful for his life in that very moment, Emily watches him silently plea, wiping his nose every few seconds.

"You know….I was once in your shoes, Matthew." she begins, not lowering the gun. "Put my all into a girl that I worked my ass off for so she could be comfortable. She cheated on me and it drove me into a fit of rage. I almost killed her with my bare hands. I know that pulsating feeling you have deep within your stomach because of his latest revelation."

Matthew fanatically nods his head as he feels that Emily's words might indicate that she won't kill him. He keeps his hands up, proving to her that he's not a threat.

"….Since I feel for you and your apparent romantic issues, I am willing to let you leave here and pretend none of this ever happened. Okay?"

"Y-y-yes-yes." the words fly out of his mouth through his relieved exhale. His stance was tottering as if his knees were going to give way any second from all this anxiety and stress.

"But…if you _ever_ approach me like this again, I guarantee you that you won't make it past that shiny threshold, do you hear me?" her narrowed eyes zero in on him as she presses the gun harder against his head, causing him to flinch. "I will end your life so fast, you'll be meeting your maker before you even finish your sentence. Nobody will have a _clue_ as to what happened to you because I will make your limp, dead-weight body disappear."

Matthew gulps down hard, nodding his head once more. "I understand. I am so sorry, Emily."

"Now, back up slowly." her hand tightly on his shoulder, she directs him towards the door with their eyes still locked. "And you tell whoever your girlfriend is, that it's over. You're _completely_ done with her ass."

"Yes-yes. I…I will. I promise."

"And I mean it. This is not the place for you. _Leave_. Go up north. Go find yourself, Matthew."

"Tha-Thank…y-you." he stutters out nervously when they finally reach the door. He glances up at the gun still pointed at him for a split second. "Can I have that back, please?"

" _No_." She firmly states, lowering the weapon. "This isn't who you are and you know it. You live by this, you better fucking bet you're going to die by it as well." Moving him to the side, she unlocks and opens her front door and waves the gun towards the hallway.

"Go home."

Not letting another second pass with the luck of his life being spared, Matthew quickly strides out the door, down the hallway, and rushes into the staircase, not looking back. Emily closes and locks her door, leaning her back against it as she takes a deep breath. She rubs her temples for a few seconds before she looks at the gun in her grasp: an off-black, semi-automatic handgun. She discharges the magazine and checks inside, just out of curiosity. He only had one bullet inside.

Emily fully discharges the gun of its ammo and pushes herself off the door. The soft patter of her feet on her marble floor is the only sound heard in her now still condo. She approaches one of her wall mirrors in her living room and grabs a circular metal clip she had resting on top of a nearby shelf and places it on the side of the black framed mirror, exactly two inches from the top. A click is heard when the metal attaches and Emily slides open the secret compartment of the wall decor where an array of small handguns along with numerous fully loaded magazines were concealed. She adds Matthew's weapon to her collection of artillery of all size and damage stored all over her penthouse in plain sight where nobody would think to find them.

"You have a new unread message, Emily. Would you like me to open it?" Lucy's soothing voice floats through the walls, interrupting Emily's deep thoughts.

"Go ahead." Emily answers, barely allowing her concentration to break focus from this new notification. She locks up her "mirror" just as Lucy began reading the text.

"From an unknown local number _. A Fish Called Avalon. 7:30pm tonight._ "

Emily glances up, caught off guard by the context of this new message. "Repeat that?"

"From an unknown local number. _A Fish Called Avalon. 7:30pm tonight._ "

Emily looks at herself in the mirror when a smile crosses half of her face. She spins around and trots over to her room where her phone was on the charger. Knowing so many people, it's dangerous to assume who is who, especially when the number isn't saved. So, to be on the safe side, she decides to text back the unknown herself. Just to make sure.

 _Today 10:42am_

 _Unknown number:_ A Fish Called Avalon. 7:30pm tonight.

 _Emily:_ Whose face can I expect to see there?

She stares at the screen of her iPhone, waiting for an instant text back. Within the moments she anticipates a response, doubt begins to creep into her mind as she remembers different people she's been in contact with, whether business or personal, that could have sent this specific message. For a second, she wonders if this was Jenna from a different num-

 _Unknown number:_ A goddess.

Now grinning from ear to ear, Emily tosses her phone on her bed, and does a little dance with the swing of her arms.

 _Finally. A date._

….

At the strike of six o'clock, Emily stands in her bathroom fully dressed and ready to go. She adjusts the buttons of her deep blue blouse, only closing right underneath her chest so she's able to show off a bit of her skin. Lucy had her music playlist sounding off to accompany her getting ready and songs being played surely amped her up, making her feel extra sexy this night. She grabs one of her mannequin hands and removes only the best rings and bracelets she feels will add to her outfit. Slipping the accessories on, a small voice starts to speak within the comforts of her mind.

" **You should change into something less made up, not uptight…..you decided to show up to show off…..not a smart move, if you ask me…..relaxed and humble…."**

Emily glances down at her hands. With each ring and bracelet she put on, she was wearing thousands of dollars. Just her left hand alone was comfortably about ten thousand in total of expenses. Her head raises to look at herself in the mirror when she was suddenly hesitant towards her outfit she chose to wear to this date. The last words Alison spoke to her was about being modest and not vain. The worst thing she could possibly do is arrive to their date in a similar way she arrived to the charity event – feeling a sense of self-importance. She already turned Alison off once, she didn't want to do it again and completely blow her chances.

…...

Going through a few different cycles of outfits, Emily elects a very simple get-up. She cannot help that all her clothing are on the expensive side, however, she can control how the worth is perceived by others. Wearing a matching ensemble of a black shirt and snugly-fit black jeans, she tosses on a lavender jean jacket, rolling up the sleeves. A good contrast of colors that can out passed off as casual, every day wear. She limits down on her accessories, only picking a couple rings, a watch, and a single gold necklace. Taking some product into her hands and rubbing them together, she fluffs her black hair to her content before she deemed herself perfect and ready to go.

Emily snags her phone off the charger and her wallet on her way towards her closet to grab a pair of her shoes, another simple addition. Staying away from her heels and thigh-highs, she picks out something she's never wore but figured it'll come in handy some day: low-top vans. She used to wear them a lot in her past as her go to shoes but as she grew as a person, she tried to stay away from things that reminded her of "Old Emily". Luckily, she was able to match with her jacket. Lavender colored shoes with a lavender jacket. Black and lavender was the color for this date with Alison and she liked it. Such a soft color that would hopefully translate over well with Alison instead of her previous outfit.

The time nears 6:50pm when Emily turns off her bedroom and bathroom lights and walks to the other side of condominium where her sky garage was located. The luxuries of purchasing such an expensive suite of the building she lived in, she was able to have her own private garage away from the rest of the residents. A place where she can safely collect all of her prized possessions.

Her babies.

Going through glass sliding doors by her kitchen, the automatic sensor lights flip on as she jogs her way down a small flight of stairs to where her display of parked vehicles. She leans against the balcony above it all, scanning her eyes over each of her options carefully as if she was deciding on which shoes she wanted to wear.

 _I simplified my outfit so I don't come across too arrogant…but…when it comes to driving, would it be "bad" to ride with flair? Will it make me seem egotistical?_

Emily chews on her inner-bottom lip for a few more seconds before she turned to the nearby wall that hung all the keys to her cars in a glass frame.

" _Nope_." she snatches the keys to her white BMW i8 off the case with a happy-go-lucky grin. "It just means I have _impeccable_ taste."

…

Twenty minutes before the time Alison texted Emily to show, Emily pulls up to the restaurant she was told to arrive at. _A Fish Called Avalon_. She's never been to this place before but being located in the more upper class part of South Beach, she knew Alison picked somewhere most likely on the pricey side. Maybe Emily isn't the only one that has _impeccable_ taste.

As Emily finds a parking spot as close to the restaurant as she could, she spots a person sitting at one of the tables outside, in the far corner. From her distance, she couldn't tell if it was Alison or not but the woman had the same flash of blonde hair Emily saw in Little Havana. Even if that were her, she didn't expect her to at their table this early. Not earlier than her anyways. With her car secured with parking, Emily checks herself out one last time in the mirror before she grabs her black shades and throws them on.

A glass of water is lightly swirled in small circles as Alison held her drink with one hand while scrolling through her phone with the other. She would briefly glance up and check her surroundings every so often until a particular sight caught her eye. A little down the street from where she sat, she saw doors of a vehicle open. However, it wasn't so much of a door opening that got her attention, it was in the fashion of how they opened. Instead of opening outward as conventional car doors usually do, these white doors rotated vertically at a fixed hinge – beetle wings, as some would call it. A few seconds later, out stepped the person she was anticipating, exiting her car as if she was movie star arriving at the red carpet, getting the obvious attention from nearby eaters. Alison lowered her eyes back to her phone and sipped her ice water through the straw provided when Emily approached her.

"Is this seat taken? A beautiful girl such as yourself sitting alone this late? That should be illegal."

"Already with the theatrics, hm?" Alison comments back without looking up from her screen.

"You don't like it?"

"Makes you seem self-absorbed."

"It's only to make you smile." Emily takes the seat across from Alison, making her glance in her direction for the first time up close. Emily removes and closes her shades, placing it in the far corner of the table before she gets herself comfortable in her seat.

This place Alison specifically chose was very pleasing to the eye. With the warm night surrounding them, it allowed for the restaurant to light up their neon lights, joining the beautiful "Miami" nightfall ambience while a small band, paid by the establishment, plays soft music to ease the customers.

"You're wearing sunglasses at night?" Alison points out with her brows knitted closely together in confusion as she locks her phone and sets it on the table.

"My eyes have to be protected from these bright lights. I think it gives me a pass to look cool." Emily replies with a smile as scoots her chair close to the table, resting her folded hands on top as she looks onto Alison. Her attire for the night was also "simple" and casual but looked so fitting on her. Although she could only see her top half, a maroon blouse with a lace-up front, showing a small traces of her chest, that's all Emily needed to see. Her blonde hair was bone straight with curled ends that she wore one half in front of her shoulder, the other behind.

From the opposite side, knowing Emily had an unusual set of eyes, Alison couldn't tell if she was serious or joking about her shades. To play it safe, in case of the former, she drops the subject at that same moment.

"I appreciate you coming early instead of fashionably late as some people like to do."

"Well, if you're on time, you're late. That's the motto I grew up with and live by. I don't like to leave bad impressions on people." Emily replies with a wink.

Everything Emily spoke always followed by a lingering smile, almost as if she had a double meaning for every sentence she uttered. Alison wanted to break that forced charm and see the real Emily. Not the charismatic Emily that can get anyone to do as she wants but the real Emily. In the restroom of the event Alison saw her last, Emily said the "real her" was the her she met at the party but she begs to differ. The "real her" was the her that was utterly embarrassed in front of everyone and hid in the bathroom to regain some sort of confidence. That's the Emily she wants to tug out tonight. See what she's all about.

A uniformed dressed man approaches the table with a pad in hand under a basket of hot rolls, breaking their momentary stare with a polite and mannered voice as he speaks to Emily.

"Good evening, my name is Ian and I will be serving you both tonight. Would you like anything to drink, Ma'am?" he awaits her answer as he sets the basket on the table and takes a hold of the pen behind his ear.

Without opening the menu in front of her, Emily turns her attention back to Alison. "If I order a bottle of champagne, would you care to have some?"

"No." Alison answers simply with no hesitation, her straight-faced expression not once faltering.

Emily's lips tighten up with a twist to the side as she processes Alison's blunt answer. Not only did it catch her off-guard but she did not expect a no so harshly. Most women would agree to a proposal seeing that Emily only asked knowing she was going to get a yes in return. She turns to the waiter with rebound smile, acting as if she was fine with the blatant rejection.

"Surprise me. Something alcoholic and light, please."

" _Of course_." he nods before switching from her to Alison. "Anything for you as well, ma'am?"

"Just more water." Alison raises her glass with an easy smile.

The man bows his head, closing his pad. "I'll be right back with your drinks."

Watching the waiter walk away, Emily's eyes stay on him until he disappears when her sights move back to the beauty in front of her. "Any reason why you're settling for water?"

Alison sets her glass down and leans back into her chair, running a hand through her hair. "I'd like to be able to drive back home tonight."

Letting that minor occurrence go, Emily rolls her shoulders loose, deciding to move the night along. "I'm really happy that you've decided to give me another chance. Last time was…..embarrassing…to say the least."

"But it looks like you made it out just fine despite it all. You were all over the articles and local news. People seemed to love it."

"You think so?"

" _I_ don't have to think so. The proof speaks for itself." Alison head motion towards her phone as she crossed her arms. "You donated generously, more than anyone else at that event. Fifty-thousand to Homesafe for abused kids, fifty-thousand to Miami Rescue Mission for the homeless and twenty-thousand to the Blind and Visually Impaired. One hundred and twenty thousand dollars donated in total. All while looking pretty appropriate and down to earth with the volunteers and representatives. That look suits you."

"Well," Emily straightens herself as she fluffs her jacket with poised smirk. "A little fairy in my ear told me ahead of time that I should check myself. Wear something less _made up_ and not _uptight_ like everyone else. It's not like I'm doing these people an honor, you know? They're struggling and people decide to show up to show off? Not a smart move, if you ask me. If you're giving back to charities, you should at least look like it. _Relaxed and humble_."

From the moment Emily sat down, this was the first instance where Emily made Alison crack a smile that she knew she was trying to hold back. In all honesty, Alison was surprised to see Emily change into the apparel she did when she joined the crowd again. Instead of the cape she wore, she doubled down to a pair of jeans and a comfortable, tan sweater that was being sold by elderly, widowed women who knit to raise money. Something Jenna nabbed at the last second. Though she didn't talk to Emily for the remainder of the night, she could admit that she did like seeing her interact with everyone without that sense of importance. Maybe she needs a glass of wine to the face often.

"Now the question is…" Alison moves her body to lean forward towards the table as she narrows her inquiring eyes at Emily. "Was this just a money dump to distract the public from seeing you as a racist, KKK-supportive, insensitive ass? Or are you actually going to be involved with the charities you donated to?"

Emily tilts her head, confused by this passionate accusation against her character. "What makes you think I won't be involved?"

"Why would you?" Alison shrugs. "It seems like you have business matter and women that need your undivided attention. That has to take a lot of your time and not leave much room for anything else."

After all the light and bright smiles she's given, Emily's face sits neutral and expression-less as she stares at Alison. She got the notion that she was playing with this façade of being "not like other girls" but she surely knew how to press certain buttons, especially so early. Since she sat down, Alison has been picking apart.

"…Do you assume a lot?" Emily finally spoke.

"I call things as I see them." Alison challenged right back.

Ian arrives back to the table to break yet another staring match, as if he was the referee signaling the end of a round and sending them back to their corners. He hands Emily a glass filled with a swirl of red, orange, and yellow liquid and strawberry perched on the brim.

"I've granted myself the liberty of making you our twist of the classic _Sunrise on Collins_." he explains to Emily as he fills Alison's glass with the pitcher of water he carried. "It's made with Bacardi Rum, orange, lime, and pineapple juice, along with Ginger Puree and Grenadine. I hope you find it satisfying. Are you two ready to order or do you need more time? Maybe I can start you off with an appetizer?"

"I'm ready to order," Alison announces as she opens her menu. Emily grabs a hold of her menu, as well, to skim a look at what she could decide on eating. The inside of the menu glowed a light blue hue under the neon lights of the restaurant as she flips through the thick pages.

"I would like the saffron seafood risotto and if I can substitute the roasted tomatoes for grilled asparagus, please."

 _Thirty-eight dollars,_ Emily noticed as she came across the order Alison picked _. She surely isn't one to shy away from a pricey plate._

"Perfect, that's one of my favorites." Ian commented as he wrote her selection on his pad.

"Is it?"

"Yes, the mixture of the creamy arborio rice with the seafood is to die for. _Very_ good choice." he then turns to Emily, "And you? Do you have an idea of what you would like?"

"Uhm… I'll have the sake and tarragon glazed lobster tails with a side of truffle sweet potato mash. Thank you." she closes her menu without another thought and passes it on to him. Alison follows suit and does the same.

"Another good choice. I'll put this in right away." Picking up the pitcher from the table, Ian excuses himself and walk away from the two, leaving them to begin round three. They sit in silence for a few moments as Emily takes a sip of her sunset drink. And as Ian anticipated, the selection was sweet on her tongue and cold going down. She could see herself ordering another one of these later.

"I'm not sure what you heard at that charity event and from who but as a reporter, you should know there are two sides from every story." Emily enlightens as she sets her glass down, looking up at Alison who already had her in her sights. "I might have some people who don't like me and like the idea of smearing my name but not every gossip you hear is gospel."

"I'm not a reporter." Alison corrects her.

"What?"

"You said _as a reporter_ but I'm not a reporter."

"What do you do then? Work for tabloids? Because you were quick to take pictures of me and almost send them off to whoever you work under."

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Alison teases with a half-smile as she grabs her phone. Unlocking it and going into her gallery, she slides her device across the table into Emily's space. With a raised brow, Emily picks it up and checks out what's on the screen.

"I'm a photojournalist. I like taking pictures and capturing moments. I was there to cover the event and everything that happened during. I wasn't there specifically for _you._ I didn't even know who you were let alone that you'd be there."

Emily swipes right as she sees the various pictures Alison took that night, from taking candid pictures of people to pictures of the location and surroundings. They were very pleasing photos with a great grasp of seizing the essence of that event. She even noticed herself a few times in them.

"However…I _did_ learn some things about you that night." Alison slides in a small comment.

"Like what?" Emily asks as she continues to scroll through Alison's supposed work, still focused on the phone.

"Like you're powerful, that's all."

Emily looks up at Alison, intrigued with the one word adjective she selectively used. " _Powerful_." she repeats.

"Yes. You're well-respected in and out of your field of work. Desired by many, as well. I've seen your hashtag on Instagram. Didn't expect to see so many pictures of you with captions that read with pure infatuation and lust."

"You looked me up?"

"Why not? I figured with a persistent person such as yourself, I should get to know exactly who you are."

Emily is certainly fluttered in the interest of her when she's not around. She almost liked that idea. The idea of Alison thinking about her on her downtime, so much so that she dedicates an hour or so to find out more about her.

"And what did you find?" she now questions as she passes the phone back to Alison.

"Curiosity. Most importantly, the question of _how._ "

"How what?"

"How everything." Alison inches forward into the table again, keeping her eyes locked in on Emily's body language. "How did you go from the Armed Forces to this successful CEO of your own founded company, living as a heavily lusted after bachelorette in a high-rise lifestyle? You were practically America's sweet G.I. Jane and now….you arrive to a restaurant in a sports car and order without caring to look at the prices. How did you get from one normal to a whole different normal within a few years?"

Alison's lips are slightly pursed as she slowly taps on her black phone screen with the tips of her pink nails.

"All as a dead woman?"

Emily stares at her blankly, not a muscle flinching out of place before she smiles. Looking down at the white clothed table, she reaches for her drink once more. "Did you create any theories while on your internet research?"

"No theories." Alison mimics her movement and grabs a hot roll of bread from the basket in between them. "I was hoping that you could tell me."

"You know….on typical first dates you talk about each other's interests, hobbies, dreams and aspirations, maybe some talk about favorite life memories-"

"I want to know who you are, Emily Fields. From _your_ mouth. Not anyone else's. Steer me away from the gossip and give me the gospel."

Emily takes a swig of her cocktail, swallowing it in a sluggish fashion as Alison attentively watched, and expecting an answer to start the ball rolling.

"For someone who's not a reporter, you sure sound like one."

"I'm a goddess, remember?" Alison flicks a challenging raise of a brow. "You have to confess your sins to me."

"You wouldn't be able to handle my confessions." Emily scoffs out a chuckle.

" _Try me_."

Emily sucks her cheek in, biting it as she mentally debates herself on whether she should take the bait or not. Alison waits as she chews a piece of bread she ripped off, anticipating her next move.

"…I'm going to _refrain_ from talking naughty at the table we're eating at." Emily replies as she plucks the single strawberry off her drinking glass. "It's impolite."

"I'm not a polite woman." Alison pushes back defiantly, audaciously knocking down every post Emily sets up to gain control of their conversation.

"Neither am I. But one of us has to be behaved in this beautiful restaurant you picked this evening." Keeping her eyes on Alison, she places the end of the fruit on her tongue before she enclosed her lips around it, taking a bite.

"Wouldn't want to attract attention to ourselves, would we?"

….

"Here's your check." Ian bows as he hands Emily the black pad she asked for. She thanks him before he leaves and open to see the total of close to $170 on the receipt inside. When she places it down on the table to fetch her wallet, Alison grabs a hold of it for herself before she pulls the purse that hung from the back of her chair.

" _Please_." Emily extends a hand to stop her. "This is supposed to be my treat for you."

"And it was. But I don't need anyone to pay for me on anything." Alison continues to dig into her purse for her wallet. "I'm not a child."

Emily surrenders her hands, not even attempting to argue about Alison's sense of independence. Alison sets a 50 dollar bill on the table and raises out of her chair, gathering herself to leave.

"Wait. The night can't end already. It's _way_ too early." Emily swiftly slides $150 in cash into the check as she stands as well. "Let me show you something."

Emily waves their waiter to them, giving back the pad. "Keep the change as your tip".

"Thank you, ma'am." Ian graciously nods. "You two have a great night."

Now having to leave, Emily allows Alison to walk in front of her to lead them to the street, taking a subtle glance at her rounded ass in her camel brown pencil skirt before she put on her sunglasses.

Once out of the restaurant's outside table sections, they approach the sidewalk where Emily unlocks her car with the button of her car keys. Alison stops as Emily walks over and opens her passenger side door for Alison, raising the door vertically. Waiting for her to enter like a chauffeur, Alison shakes her head.

"I rather take my own car, thank you."

"We won't be out for long, I promise. I'll bring you right back and you can leave." Emily reassures her. Although she knows that Alison is up keeping her tough façade, the also knew temptation of riding inside a luxurious BMW such as the one she had was way too strong to pass up.

Alison stands still for a few seconds before she leisurely strolls up to Emily, causing a smile to appear on Emily as she nears. She called it. You can't say no to a _BMW_.

Alison reaches for Emily's face and removes her sunglasses, putting it on herself instead.

" _I'll follow you there_." she whispers, tapping Emily's cheeks gently. Alison turns around and walks off, unlocking her own car that was parked across the street. Emily watches her cross with a little quickened pace to beat the incoming cars when she takes a deep breath.

 _Mm. She's really playing hard to get. Cute. Really cute._

 _But she won't survive the temptation._

….

"So what exactly trying to do here? Impress me?"

"You seem like the kind of girl that impresses easily."

"I don't."

"Then I'm not trying to impress you. I'm simply here to….show you something nice."

After their seafood dinner, instead of calling it a night and going their separate ways, Emily invites Alison to an environment she felt would suit them both. She doesn't leave South Beach but instead leads them to an upscale beachfront hotel Emily was familiar with. Taking Alison all the way to the 18th floor of the building, the gorgeous lights continue from the restaurant to the rooftop as they step out the elevator into the beauty of extravagance.

Feeling like you're underneath the stars, overlooking the beach on the Atlantic Ocean, Emily walks Alison to the "adults-only" vibe relaxation spot with a 30,000 square foot center pool reflecting a glistening blue against the palm trees surrounding it. There was a poolside "Sand Box" bar that already had drinks poured and ready, something Alison found odd.

Also, as beautiful as this sight was, there wasn't a soul in sight. Just them two. Another thing Alison found odd.

"This is 1 Hotel South Beach, also known as, the only oceanfront hotel with a rooftop pool in all of Miami." Emily speaks as they stroll alongside lounge chairs. "It's one of my favorite locations on this side, to be honest. The serenity and view this has….it's _breathtaking._ "

Moving across from the pool towards another sector of the roof, they enter the _relaxation_ part of this hotspot where there were white, plush, lounging furniture in private hut-like structures.

"Then you have your picturesque cabanas for you to lay down and unwind after a little water activity." Emily points out as they stop in front of one. "These glass walls allows you to look out into the horizon of the ocean in your moment of tranquility. Perfect little touch of scenery."

While Alison could agree how beautiful this entire rooftop was, everything seemed too orchestrated. The cabana had a seeming soft outdoor couch with a bed matching the same soft fabrics. The way Emily described everything made it appear that she was on the show House Hunters. With the alcohol left in the open for consumption, the empty space just for them, and these "cabanas", it was as if she was trying to sell a pitch to her.

"Is this what you do this with all the other girls?" Alison turns to her, skeptically crossing her arms. "Try to woo them into sleeping with you?"

Taking back by the accusation, Emily shakes her head with her forehead creased in confusion, looking back at Alison as if she asked the world's widest question. "What other girls?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." Alison hisses with a roll of her eyes. She already felt herself growing annoyed by the fake innocent act Emily is putting on.

However, all Emily does is laugh at this, glancing down as she adjusts her watch. "Why would there be any _other girls_ when I'm talking to you? Here in this moment with you right now?"

"You seem like the unstable type. Someone who can't sit still and gets bored very easily."

"There is nothing wrong with being vigorous and spontaneous." Emily cocks her head, checking Alison up and down with pointed eyes before she locks with hers. She extends out to touch her hand. "Are you not spontaneous, _Alison_?"

" _Don't_ …." Alison bears a snarky smile at Emily's deliberate emphasis as she smacks away her unwanted contact, wagging a finger at Emily. "Don't touch me if I didn't express that you can and don't say my name in that tone." Not giving another second to pass, she turns around and walks off.

Emily chases after her as Alison moves in a brisk-like march away from the cabana, towards the pool. "Why not? Alison _is_ your name, right?"

"I'm now starting to prefer that you don't use it." Alison orders over her shoulder. Her hair seemed to float in the wind behind her as she strides and Emily couldn't help but to stare at her from head to toe with the view she had. The skirt she had on did wonders for her, from her legs to her ass, she couldn't help but to peek a glimpse every time Alison turns her back to her.

"Then what would you prefer me to call you? Goddess? Babe? Sweetie? Honey? Beautiful? Gorgeous? Sexy? I have plenty to choose from, just take your pick and I'll honor it."

"It's Ms. DiLaurentis to you." Alison spins around, nearly face to face with Emily, not realizing how near she got behind her. She takes a step back away from the closeness as Emily childishly gasps with a smile.

" _I get a last name._ DiLaurentis….that sounds Italian." she ponders with pursed lips, "Do you have Italian in you?"

Alison holds her ground with a hardened glare, not entertaining Emily's devious scheme she had in full swing.

"What's with the hostility, Ms. DiLaurentis?" Emily asks in an almost taunting tone that's beginning to get under Alison's skin.

"Because I know the game you're trying to play right now with all of this. I see right through it." she pushes back sternly.

" _A game_?" Emily frowns with a puzzled look on her face.

"Are you hard at _hearing_? Is your aid at home? Why must you repeat everything I say to you?" Alison irksomely snaps at Emily smugly looking back at her. It's as if she liked this aggression being pulled out of her.

"Why are you answering my question with a question?" Emily replies jeeringly.

Not continuing this charade, Alison turns to leave when Emily quick steps to get in front of her, blocking her way from taking off.

"Look, Alis- _Ms. DiLauentis_ ," she quickly corrects herself, raising a hand in error. "…There is a reason why you're here with me. If you weren't the _slightest_ bit interested, as you're trying to portray, you wouldn't have followed me here. You wouldn't have anything to do with me since the charity event. But yet, here you are."

"I'm not interested. I just felt _pity_ for you."

"If that was the case then why do you keep looking at lips when I talk?"

Emily's power move of a question catches Alison completely unprepared and left wide open. Throughout the night, especially since they came up to the rooftop, Emily would notice the subtle glimpse to her lips whenever she would speak. Just now, Alison trying to attest she wasn't interested in Emily at all, she couldn't say those words without a few quick flickering of her eyes to Emily's mouth in the process.

Alison stood there, speechless, unable to come up with a hasty comeback just as Emily predicted. Despite how _hard_ Alison plays, she won't be able to resist the pressure when Emily turns it up.

"Don't feel bad because I have no shame in saying that I can't help to look at yours…" Emily slowly steps closer into Alison, her voice now gradually losing its volume and changing into a soft spoken admiration. "The way words slip off your tongue and how your bottom lip pouts the way it does when you get worked up…it's cute. _Mesmerizing_ , actually. So, forgive me if I stare…"

It wasn't long until they were in extreme proximities of each other, personal spaces clearly ignored and invaded. Alison is caught into a spell-like hold as she maintains the gaze shared between them. Emily's grey eye seemed to have a slight shimmer to it and because of how uncommon her eyes were, Alison couldn't pull away from it. No matter how many times she tries to act like its fine and that the interest behind it will wear off, it doesn't. It can't. Every stare is another chance to see a story that has yet explained itself.

"I have the strongest desire to kiss you." Emily whispers, making it her turn to put her attention on Alison's smooth and hydrated lips. Her hand reaches out to kindly cup the side of Alison's warm face, inching closer and closer.

"Can I kiss you, _Ms. DiLaurentis_?" she asks, her question dripping with desire, eagerness, and hunger all wrapped in one chocolate bite of lust. She could feel Alison's breath stopping with the anticipated moment nearing when Emily closes her eyes to seal the gap between their lips. Something she's been wanting to do since the party. Something that she knows Alison wants too but is probably afraid of being seen as "easy". If she only knew that Emily doesn't judge and would respect her more if she just outright expressed how she really felt.

A blunt and startling shove against Emily's chest knocks her off balance, sending her stumbling backwards right off the ledge and down into the ice cold waters of the pool with a loud splash. Alison hops backwards to avoid the splatter, holding back a laugh with her lips pressed into themselves. Emily shoots up the surface, gasping for air, as she bobs in the water like an apple in a barrel.

"Appears to me that not only are you unstable but you're stubborn as well. So…it looks like you're going to have to learn the hard way." Alison crouches down to Emily's level as if she was a teacher about to scold her student. "Next time you touch me, after I told you not to, I will break your fingers. Do you understand that, Ms. Fields?"

Slicking her wet hair back and out of her face, Emily obediently nods her head with enlarged eyes. " _Yes, I'm_ -" she abruptly stops to catch her breath. "I'm sorry."

" _Great_. I'm glad we had this chat." Alison vindictively smiles as she stands to tower over Emily who stared up at her as if she was a giant. The purple glow against her face under the twinkling stars made her look like a larger than life character, a to-be feared higher power. All of a suddenly, Emily felt like an ant.

"Goodnight. Drive home safe. Or, you know, you can _unwind_ in one of those cabana beds over there. It has a perfect view of the ocean. _Breathtaking._ " Alison mocks her before she struts off from the poolside, leaving Emily still stunned in the water. Shaking out her hair, she puts on Emily's glasses that she took, knowing she's not going to give them back.

 **Lesson number one: Alison DiLaurentis isn't just anybody. But neither is Emily, is she?**

 **Emison with their first date! Someone definitely left the night wet but not the kind one would expect. Alison did not come to play and I think Emily is seeing that crystal clear about now.**

 **As a recap, three major things happened in this update. Uno, the tragic yet completely coordinated end to Lance Stevens, the man responsible for Emily's captivity. Dos, Emily getting a little visit from a scorned boyfriend. Tres, Emison's night out. What do you make of all of it?**

 **I wanted to make almost an evolution of Emily's psyche with the confrontation scene. Past Emily have buckled at just the mere presence of a weapon being used to threaten her life. Revengeful Emily learns how to use that threat as her way of defense. Emily today is bold and extremely daring when looking at the face of danger. The way she egged that young man on, he could have easily caved to his anger and shot Emily point blank, killing her instantly. Does this difference in Emily say anything to you? Especially seeing how she lives her life now?**

 **I hope you enjoyed this as I know we all have been waiting for these two to start making their moves. If you didn't already know, my mini side fic, Art of Attraction is now out and four chapters in! It's a G!P story so reader beware. But even if you don't like those kind of stories, I think if you give it a chance, you** _ **might**_ **enjoy it!**

 **Emison is love. Emison is life. Emison's sex will be hotter than an inferno if this tension continues.**


	9. Chapter 5: Submission

**Hello, hello, hello, my favorite people.**

 **I'm glad you've enjoyed my last instalment with the last chapter and are hungry for more. Of course, I never forget about my stories or you guys, although it seems like I do by how "quiet" I get at times. Just know I'm hard at work, spit-shining and polishing these chapters to make sure they're absolutely perfect for presentation.**

 **Since it's been a while, in the last update, several things had occurred. You had a random guy barging into Emily's condo and threatening to kill her, Alison allowing Emily for their first date, their dinner, Emily taking her to some rooftop paradise to "admire the view", and then you had Emily being pushed into a pool. Definitely a rollercoaster.**

 **And now, we move onto the aftermath…**

 **Enjoy.**

CHAPTER #5: Submission

 _Italics means thoughts, emphasized word or action._ **Bolded is a flashback.** (….) is an indication that time has passed.

Have you ever experienced shock? Genuine shock? An instant in time where you felt total helplessness and maybe saw your life flashing before your very eyes?

You can undergo that emotion when you swallow something that gets lodged in your throat or, perhaps, being scared by a friend popping out of the darkness. It's a moment of vulnerability and complete ease that's abruptly disturbed, making you fear for your life in that very minute. Although reality sets in and you realize you were pranked or you didn't chew your food properly and were able to get it down eventually, there was still just that _one second_ where your heart felt like it was going to stop.

Being shoved into an ice cold pool, unsuspectingly, in a moment of peace is another example of that very shock.

Emily has experience all kinds of rejection since she started dating in her teenage years. Well into her adulthood, she still comes across a few slammed doors from time to time. None of them, however, has been a physical rejection such as Alison's. If Emily wasn't a natural swimmer and was pushed into the deep end of a pool, she could have panicked from the sudden transition and possibly drowned. But that's not the focus of the situation to her. It's about how she was handled.

Now, a part of her liked it, oddly enough. It was bold. Courageous even. She liked how the dominance was being established between them – equal levels. She's not someone Emily has full and total control over and Alison doesn't have that power on her either. It was kind of refreshing, in a way, compared to all the other women Emily has interacted with. Within this new chance at life, she has always been a bit reckless with women but with Alison, it's as if she's the only one not afraid to spray water at the rambunctious dog. Not saying she'll 100% change her ways but the back and forth _is_ entertaining.

Google search: emily fields military

About 233,000 results (0.41 seconds)

Emily's left leg lightly bounces as she stared at her phone screen. At their dinner a few nights ago, it seemed like Alison had an entire investigation done on her with the information she recited. Although flattered that she had looked her up, she was still curious as to exactly what she came across. Googling keywords that Alison might have used, Emily takes a dive at what is plastered about her on the internet.

After about ten minutes of seeing articles touch on her high school swimming records to military deployment to the latest rumors about her business affiliations, she's quickly bored by it all, reminded once again why she stays away from googling herself. She exhales loudly through her nose, turning off her phone as she leans her head back on the single couch she sat in. The silence of her condo surrounds her for a few, long moments before she flashes her phone back on.

Google search: alison

Emily slowly drags out the pronunciation of the last name Alison enforced onto her the last time they spoke as an attempt to spell it correctly.

Google search: alison delaurentes

Pressing enter, a barrage of Facebook and Google Plus accounts pop up as results. Emily goes through every single one of them but none of those women where the Alison she was looking for. The Alison who commanded her attention from day one.

Google search: alison delaurentes miami

More Facebook profiles. None Alison.

Google search: alison delaurentes miami photographer

 **2017 Miami's Community Give Back Gallery**

… _Gallery photographers Dean Wolfe and Alison DiLaurentis of Jae G Bell Studio were present during the event to capture the glorious moments of the first ever Community Give Back…_

Emily sits straight up when her eyes skims across the third link down. Without hesitation, she clicks it and is met with all the photos taken of that night. Taking mental note that she butchered Alison's last name and probably is the reason why she came up empty within the searches, she scrolled to the source which listed Alison as a photographer for "Jae G Bell Studios". She backs out of the web page and flies her fingers over her phone's keyboard, typing in this studio that had to be located somewhere within the city.

The first major result listed not only the exact address with pictures for visual needs, it also detailed the hours of the studio and the number needed to reach it. Although not much, it certainly was a start of something.

….

The engine that has been purring for five minutes after being parked turns off when the door on the driver's side pops open. Emily steps out into the sun's beaming rays of heat in a rather sparse parking lot. She had a whole plan set up as to how she was going to do this. The entire night they shared, Alison's interest was consistent. And now she figures, if she gives her bits and pieces of what she wants, maybe they can work towards something.

Maybe Emily can get her to stop playing defensive and allow her to slip in.

Holding the handle of her gift wrapped in a newspaper, Emily walks through the entrance doors of the studio building and comes across an older woman, looking to be either nearing her 40s or in the early years of it, about to walk right past. Not knowing if she worked there or not, Emily tries for it anyways.

"Excuse me, Miss?" Emily politely calls for the woman's attention. She smiles at Emily in acknowledgment, giving her the attention she needed.

"Do you happen to work here?"

"I do." she nods. "How can I help you?"

"Do you know where I can find an Alison DiLaurentis, by any chance?"

" _Alison_. Yeah, you had just missed her not too long ago. She left."

"Do you know where to?" Emily lightly pushes for a place. The woman gives back twinge of hesitancy behind her eyes with one of them subtly squinting at this stranger asking for Alison's location. Catching it immediately, Emily swiftly continues on in the next breath.

"I'm a family friend of hers, just drove into the city about an hour ago." Emily digs into her pocket for her phone. "She told me that she was at work so I swung by to see her but it seems like her phone is off or something and I can't get in contact with her." She mocks with a laugh as she waves her phone side to side, hoping to lower the woman's guards.

"And is that for her?" The woman points to Emily's opposite hand where she is holding what seems to be a bouquet wrapped within a sheet of newspaper. However, instead of roses, they were delectable fruits in the shapes of roses.

"Yeah." Emily softly smiles as she looks down at the gift. "She's told me how she's never tried these 'flower fruits' before so I decided to get her some on the way here."

"Those are _so good_." the woman moans in approval. At the simple gesture of pleasure and no obvious detection of suspicion, Emily's eyes darken behind her brown contacts as the corner of her lips curve into a smirk.

" _I know, right_?" she responds, lifting her voice higher, mimicking the tone the woman just used before she leaned into her like she was about to tell her a secret. " _And_ they were on sale. Sixty percent off."

The employee gasps, crossing her arms. " _Get out!_ I can never catch them on a worthy sale. Nothing past that 'save ten dollars' crap that hardly affects the price once taxes are slapped on it."

" _Exactly_. That's why I thought it was the perfect time for Alison to try it since she never has."

"Well, if I do recall correctly…" the woman ponders for a moment, twisting her lips to the side, staring past Emily. "I'm….I'm pretty sure she headed towards the gym. Usually on these days she gets her weekly workouts in. She always asks me to tag along with her but with the four kids I have, I think I get enough exercise in for the day." the woman jokes with jolly laughter, placing a friendly hand on Emily's arm.

Eyebrows are raised as Emily tilts her head to the side. " _Wow_ …four kids?"

"Mhmm." the woman proudly grins, straightening her posture. "Just had the fourth one a few months ago."

"You _certainly_ don't look like you just had a child. You look…." Emily's wandering eyes glances down at her rather taut before she tightly smiles back at her, holding back like a vampire attempting to refrain their fangs from appearing.

"Incredible."

"All thanks to the power of yoga!" the woman raises her hands lightheartedly, causing Emily to nod her head as to say 'of course'.

"But yes, Alison should be at the gym off…. North Miami Ave, if I'm not mistaken. It's this gym and fitness place. Nothing glamorous or commercial. More of one of those hole in the walls."

Emily pushes out a laugh. "Looks like I picked the perfect time to bring her some fruit, huh?"

" _Perfect_ timing." she agrees, still holding an easy beam on her face.

"Well, thank you so much. I'll be sure to GPS it." Emily begins her step in the opposite direction. "Be careful with the little ones! Don't let them suck that glow away from you."

"I'll try not too!" the woman waves as she continues on her path.

Emily moves forward slowly, keeping her sights over her shoulder on the woman until she disappeared through a door. With her feet stopping and smile vanishing instantly, she takes in a deep breath.

"Looks like we have to improvise with a new plan." she mumbles under her breath as her eyes scavenge the open lobby she stood in. Her thoughts move at a rapid speed when, in the distance, she sees another female, this time much younger, walking with her attention plastered to her phone.

Emily slightly cocks her head at the girl, zeroing in on her. After a few seconds passing, Emily shapeshifted her devious, scheming appearance into a well-mannered, harmless one as she tucks her phone back into her pocket and runs her fingers through her black hair.

She waits until the prey gets closer, twisting one of her hands behind her back to be hidden from view.

" _Hi_." Emily sweetly greets the brunette girl with honey blonde highlights pinned up into a simple ponytail. She glances up from her phone at the random yet sunny woman standing front of her

"Hello." she responds back.

"I just wanted to say that you look really nice today. Your makeup is _very_ pretty, the choice of eyeshadow really brings out your eyes." Emily's cheeks rise as her smile spreads across her face.

The rather standoffish demeanor this girl presented melted into a pleasantly surprised, cheery reaction. "Thanks!" she blushes. "That's so nice of you."

Emily uneasily grimaces through her grin as she looks down at the floor, putting on the act of an almost nervous girl trying to talk to a crush. "Okay…I know this might seem _random_ but I wanted to give this to you."

She moves her arm from behind her back to unveil the bouquet of fruits, extending her hand out to the girl.

"It's a nice day out and you should have a reason to add a smile to such a beautiful face."

The girl receives the gift, peering down at it before looking back up at Emily with total hesitation. "…What did you do to it?" she awkwardly laughs.

" _Nothing_! Nothing at all." Emily reassures her. "I brought it not even 20 minutes ago. I'm just in a giving mood today and I felt, why not give you a flower fruits?" she raises an eyebrow to accompany her light expressions. "Do you like kiwis or mangos or-"

"I like mangos, yeah." the girl agrees.

"There are some pieces of mangos in there just for you." Emily rocks on her heels as the girl stares at her apprehensively, not sure if this was some kind of joke or something legitimate.

"Enjoy it! Don't think too much about it!" Emily giggles with a twinkle in her eye, insistent on breaking that wall the girl won't drop. "There's no catch, I promise."

"Thank you…" the girl caves in, nodding her head with a big smile appearing once again. "Thank you _so_ much. This…You just made my day, you don't even know."

" _No problem._ Just pass on the gift of giving, okay?" Emily winks, sliding her hands into her back pockets.

"Okay. Thank you." the girl gleefully voices her appreciation before she began parting ways.

Emily nods with a small wave and then proceeds to walks out of the building. Back towards her parked car, she was internally glad that she was able to get that out of her hands as she started concocting her second plan.

….

Gym bag on the sink counter, fingerless gloves fastened, hair dampened with some water and slicked back into two Dutch braids, Emily makes sure her gym attire was put together perfectly as she stood alone in the restroom of the establishment she was told Alison could be found. The simple choice of a loose muscle tank, sport shorts, and a dog tag hanging around her neck seals the job when she reaches into her gym bag. Out she retrieves a small bottle of rosewater and shakes it up before she sprays her face, neck, and arms to create a dewy look. Something to make it seem as if she's been working up a sweat for a while and not as if she just pulled up from the parking lot after noticing Alison's car was, in fact, there.

Even though she did.

To finish up the job quickly, she grabs her recently purchased water bottle, pours a little less than half of it down the drain before she closes it back up, slings her wireless earbuds around her neck, double checks herself in the mirror, and walks out the restroom for her next objective.

Scanning the open area of this more rinky-dink gym with an array of weights lined up and a few number of people on them, it definitely wasn't your typical, commercialized fitness center. This wasn't the place where you'd see moms brisk walking on the treadmill with an episode of House Hunters on the TVs in front of them.

No.

This gym is in a warehouse that was gutted out and replaced with different kinds of equipment. This is a gym on the side of town where the jacked men and women come to play. Where loud grunts and the sound of weights crashing to the ground can be heard from anywhere on the lot.

Gangster rap plays from some kind of overhead system as Emily carefully walks through, keeping her eyes peeled for Alison all while pretending to know exactly where she's going. Not even 20 seconds into her stroll, she spots the blonde beauty in a corner to herself, curling small dumbbells with her head bowed and over-the-ear headphones on.

Emily notices a rack of dumbbells, most likely where Alison's came from, in front of a mirrored wall and empty machines nearby. It is then when she makes her next move. Quickly, she sets her bag down beside a weight machine and sets her attention on the weights itself. Stacked on top of one another behind the padded seating, Emily mentally debates how much should she select. For a moment she moves the pin at 60 pounds but, thinking more about it, she sets her weight at 80 pounds before she swings over to her seat.

Her eyes were peeking over at Alison still curling her arms when she digs into her bag once more for a few extra facial sprays before she turns on her music in her phone and wrap her hands around the chest press bars in front of her. With a deep breath, Emily begins to pump the weights back and forth and becomes yet another person working out in their zone.

…

Hitting her last repetition of bicep curls, Alison breathes out harshly as she lays on the upright weight bench she pressed her body against. She's done several different positions while lifting her dumbbells and now she decides that it's time end her session for the day. Leaning over to the side to set the weights on the ground, she pushes herself to stand up and stretches from her hands to her toes.

After a few silent minutes as she lets her current song she's listening to finish, she picks up the weights again, walks over to the racks, and gently places them back into their assigned, numerical spot. Lifting her eyes to the large mirror in front of her to check out her flushed face, she stops herself from walking away when she stared dead into the glass.

" _You've got to me fucking kidding me_ …" she whispers to herself, lowering her headphones from her ears to around her neck.

Turning around slowly, Alison narrows her sights at Emily firmly clenching her jaw, sweat cascading down her temple as she presses the weights in her machine. The muscles in her arms tighten with every rep in a way Alison has never seen her do before. Her sleeve of tattoos almost enhanced her arm's muscularity and, for just a moment, Alison found herself staring longer than she was supposed to. A part of her wanted to leave and act as if she didn't notice her but she couldn't. She can't leave with saying something.

Alison strolls towards Emily in a leisurely fashion until she stood right in front of her with her arms crossed.

With her eyes initially on the ground, Emily peers up to meet Alison's suspicious ones. She bites down on her bottom lip as her glistening arms flex, counting down to zero in her mind before she lowers the bar in their resting position, huffing out in exhaustion.

Alison shakes her head. "I would ask what the chances were that you'd show up here are but the possibility is really slim to none."

"Whatever do you mean…?" Emily breathes out tiredly, reaching down into her bag for her water bottle. " _Ms. DiLaurentis_."she adds as she unscrews the cap and gulps down the remaining water left.

"What are you doing here?" Alison pushes, not entertaining the dramatics Emily was sure to put on.

Emily scrunches her forehead, looking around before settling back on Alison. "Working out?"

"I mean what are you doing _here?_ "

"This is a gym. A free and open gym. A gym that anyone can use and that's what I'm doing. _Using it_."

Grabbing also a small towel from her bag, Emily removes herself from her seat and stands up, wiping her face and the back of her neck.

"The real question is what are _you_ doing here?"

Alison lifts her head slightly at Emily with her standing up to her. "This is my gym."

"You own this place?"

" _No_ ….This is where I put my time."

"What kind of time?" Emily tosses the towel of her shoulder with a curious smile. "What do you like to do?"

"I do everything." Alison answers, almost defiantly towards Emily's subtle skepticism.

Emily turns to the weight press machine that she was just on, pointing at it. "Even this bad boy right here?"

"Even that." Alison answers once again, not leaving Emily's bare brown and silver eyes, not shielded by contacts.

"Really?" Emily pouts her lips in a surprised smile. "I pinned you more as….." she glances Alison up and down, shamelessly staring at her body for a few seconds. "-a yoga kind of girl. Zumba classes. Maybe a little cycling on the side."

"And I pinned you as a conceited tool." Alison shoots back just as a gym-goer walks past them. Amused, Emily lowers her head, waiting for the guy to get out of ear shot so they can continue.

"You really shouldn't assume things." Alison speaks up again as she uncrossed her arms, twisting her body as if she was about to walk away. _"I'm much stronger than you think."_

"And just how strong are we talking about?" Emily quickly questions, not giving Alison the chance to step in the opposite direction away from her.

Alison turns back to Emily who was ever so persistent for someone who just so happened to be 'working out' at the same place she was.

"Strong enough." Alison's keeps her face straight with her simply reply as if she was asked if she knew how to boil water.

"Stronger than me?" Emily challenges as she leans her arm on the machine she was on and smiles wider, gliding her tongue across her bottom lip.

Alison shrugs with her eyes low and unbothered as she raises her hands to tighten her ponytail. Wearing a lightweight, grey, fleece jacket zipped up halfway with black and white designed leggings, Emily admires Alison's attempt at being indifferent but she can't help but to laugh.

"Now you're just talking shit." Emily points out, still bearing a grin.

The corner of Alison's mouth raises by a hair as she narrows her eyes. "Have a good evening, Emily."

In that moment, Alison spins around, the ends of her hair swinging goodbye to Emily, and walks off. Her day was already running a bit later than it should have and she just wanted to get back home and soak into some bubbles. She at least earned that for herself.

Not wanting her to slip through her fingers just yet, Emily swoops down to grab her bag and skips up behind Alison rather quickly.

"I wanna see how strong you are."

Alison audibly sighs aloud with an eye roll, turning back to Emily now slightly annoyed. " _Why?_ What would it prove?"

"Consider my curiosity piqued. You talk the talk and I want to see if you can at least back it up."

"And how do you suppose we go about that? Have a battle of who can do the most push-ups?"

"This is _your_ gym." Emily tosses the strap of her bag over her shoulder. "I'm sure you can think of something."

….

Following behind Alison past a few doors, they enter another part of the gym much different from the work out machines and weights. Alison walks over to a wall and switches on the lights which flicker on with a low hum. The scenery was illuminated before them and, to Emily, it wasn't the most picture perfect one. With inactive objects scattered here and there, punching bags held together with tape, and presence of a broom needed for the dust collected on the unfinished concrete floor, Emily felt like she stepped into one of those broken down gyms you would find in your typical boxing movie.

More importantly, there was no one around yet Alison walked around like she truly _did_ own the place. Questions started to arise within Emily's mind as she was led to a metal contraption with a single bar placed across it.

"This is a test used to define strength using none other than this," Alison rests her hand on the cold steel, facing Emily with a pleased smirk. "The power rack. This is called the _Three Rep Max Squat Test_. Here, you can measure pure strength in the glutes, quads, and core – the most powerful muscles in your body – all while adding the weight after weight until you can't lift anymore."

Pressing her lips together with a small nod, processing the information, Emily's eyes began to wander as Alison turns her face towards the off-black, circular weights that were stationed nearby.

"How you begin is by starting with a weight you're confident that you can lift for three reps. After that, you get a three minute rest, four minutes maximum. Then, when it's time for round two, you add either five or ten pound plates on each side of the bar to increase the load and repeat until you can no longer perform 3 reps in a row. The weight you lifted just before your breaking point is your three rep max."

Alison places her hands on her hips, looking at Emily who just snapped her attention back on her as if she was caught looking at something she shouldn't have. "From there, we'll find out who's stronger."

" _Yeah_ ," Emily clasps her hands together. "This is all cute and the idea of watching you squat would be potentially memorizing but, uh…." Emily points her finger in an opposite direction towards something else.

"I want to go in _there_."

Alison's eyes follows her attention which brings her to a boxing ring off in the center of the wide space they were in.

"Boxing?" Alison asked with displeasure mixed confusion. "You can't test your strength in that."

"Might not but-" Emily tilts her head with a small sway in her body before she stared back at Alison with a mischievous look. " _It'll be fun_."

Biting her lip with anticipation, Emily raises both her eyebrows as rocked side to side, waiting for an agreement to her proposal.

"We're already here…no one's around…" Emily continues to pitch her deal. " _Why not?_ A quick sparring session."

Alison thinks it over with herself. The way Emily sings out her persuasion with a wicked smile, it reminded her of the kind of people parents would warn their children about. The ones that would supposedly pressure you into doing drugs. Just a little hit.

 _All your problems will wash away, I promise you. Just try a little. Don't you want to feel good?_

Alison chews on her inner-cheek, one eye smaller than the other before her fingers reach up and unzips her jacket. Emily's face brightens with glee as Alison walks past her, slipping out into her light blue tank top. All of a sudden, Emily felt an adrenaline rush with her sense of excitement. She wasn't really concerned with 'proving her strength' as she was getting Alison into a provocative situation with her. Similar to inviting someone to play twister. It's all fun and games the first few spins until the tension puts both players into a sexual position.

Putting her jacket, headphones, and phone on top of a lone chair, Alison moves her way towards an array of lockers against a wall in the distance. Emily watches her open one of them and dig around, until she found a pair of black and red gloves.

"No, she definitely has to own this place." Emily mumbles to herself in disbelief while she slowly unwrapped her own workout gloves. Having access to different parts of an entire gym without anyone around, knowing where things are kept, talking as if she was a professional trainer…..there's something Alison isn't telling her.

"How did you know where those gloves were?" Emily questionably asks as Alison approached her.

"Because that's where the gloves go?" Alison shakes her head in response as if Emily asked her the world's most stupid question. "Anyways, you have slightly longer fingers than I do but I think this size will do just fine."

Alison tosses a pair of black and gold gloves to her. First thing Emily noticed was that they weren't traditional boxing gloves. They were more of sparring gloves, a mixture between fingerless gloves and boxing gloves combined. You are given the freedom to flex your fingers but when you ball them into a fist, the cushion covering the knuckle portion resembles the front of a boxing glove.

Emily thought they were going to freestyle and have a little handsy, grappling session but it looked like Alison wanted to go for an actual round.

 _On second thought….maybe this is better._

….

Emily slowly strolls behind Alison with a dark, predatorily gaze on her face as she watched her dip her head under the set of tight ropes and onto the large, red mat. As soon as Alison turns around to face Emily, the hunger immediately dissipates into a softer appearance to hide her inner-feelings ripping at her at the skin. Emily follows her lead and slides her way under the ropes to accompany Alison inside. She begins chuckling to herself, approaching to stand face to face with Alison as she adjusts her fingers inside of her gloves.

"I've got to say…if you're trying to impress me, you got me by a little bit. And most of it from is from this outfit-"

Mid-sentence, Alison catches Emily off-guard with a swift jab to her arm. Emily freezes in that exact moment, staring at her right arm for a few silent seconds before her eyes drifted up to look at Alison with an eyebrow raise.

"Eyes up here." Alison motions her hands to her face as she stared back at Emily with an uncaring, unsympathetic pout.

"Oh?" Emily straightens herself, more vigilant than before as she narrows her eyes at the girl in front of her, "We're going to be like that?"

Wearing her hair now in a high bun, Alison shrugs indifferently as she began to shake out her limbs, her socked feet moving from side to side before she readies herself in a basic fighting posture.

Emily could only hold a serious face for so long before she caved into laughter.

"I'm sorry," Emily snickers. "First of all, your stance is off which means you have no balance." she notes as she looks down at Alison's feet. "I would honestly destroy you with one takedown."

"Then do it." Alison shamelessly challenged as she pounded her gloves together.

"Really?" Emily's eyebrow rose high once again, "You really want me to show you ' _my strength'_?"

Alison patiently waits for Emily to make the first move, still keeping her unapologetic, non-caring demeanor. On the flip side, Emily has been one to be all talk between the both of them. Now, she wanted to see if _she_ could back up her words now that they're here.

Emily drops her head and takes in a deep breath, wiggling her fingers around as she stood calmly. Suddenly, without warning, her body exploded forward, charging into Alison's direction. She lowers herself just to lurch her arm up Alison's left leg to tightly grasp onto her thigh. Alison quickly tried to back herself out of the hold in defense, however, with every frantic movement she made, she wasn't escaping. Before she realizes it, Emily wraps her right arm around her other thigh, raises her off her feet a few inches, and drives her into the matt with a loud thud. Flat on her back, Emily swiftly crawls on top, straddling Alison into a victoriously pin all within three seconds of fluid motion.

" _Aww_ , you actually look cute down there." Emily laughs as Alison struggles to get out from under her, making Emily jerk forward as if she was riding a bull.

" _Hey, hey, hey_ , no squirming." Emily forces her weight down to keep Alison from moving, "I told you that you were off. And look at us now. I barely used any effort."

Alison huffs away a strand of blonde hair that fell in front of face as she stares up at the dominant fighter. All Emily does is lick her lips with a grin as she shakes her head, clicking her tongue at Alison under her.

"You should listen to me more."

"You haven't even seen what I could do." Alison bitterly grunts with a forced smile. Her now strikingly, cold blue eyes were locked and trained on Emily as she took in fast and quick breaths.

Emily amusedly laughs at her as she crosses her arms against her chest, "What are you going to with me on top of y-"

Before she could finish her slick remark, Alison's bucks her hips, causing Emily to jerk forward once more. In that small window of opportunity with Emily's leaning on top of Alison as if she was about to kiss her, Alison's hands firmly grip Emily's side, pushing her body off and tucking her knees in to hopefully bring her legs into Emily's mid-section for a kick. However, Emily's motions are quicker than hers and she shoves her knees back down, falling on top of the blonde once again with her failed attempted at breaking free.

"Oh, _nonono_. Where are you going?" Emily teases her with a small coo as she fights against Alison who was trying to get from under her.

"Where are you going, baby?"

Alison decides to use her hands and grabs for Emily's head, pulling her into her shoulder with a headlock-like grapple. Using all of her body strength, Alison lets out groan out of exertion and rolls Emily on her side, now switching positions as she sits on top and Emily on bottom.

"Don't call me baby." Alison huffs out as she moves the loose strands of hair out of her face, looking down at Emily panting from the quick burst of energy. "I'm not your fucking baby."

" _Well_ ," Emily cocked her head slightly to one side, "Normally, if I'm in this position under someone, I would be calling you baby and you…"

Emily cunningly covers her face with a smile as she tried to find her breath, holding her eye contact with Alison.

"You would be gasping out my name. _Emily…Emily, fuck! Oh my god!_ " Emily mockingly imitates Alison's voice, moaning out words she's heard countless of times.

Alison rolls her eyes disgustedly as Emily loudly laughed. She jumped off her, allowing Emily to roll onto her feet and square up for an actual one-on-one.

"What's wrong?" Emily pouts, still reeling from her humor with her scheming grin still on her face like a predator mocking its next meal. Her eyes crinkle, almost evilly, as she walked towards Alison, now allowing the animal within her to slowly morph her face.

"You're afraid that I can do that to you? Make you… _weak_?" she tilts her head with her eyes still locked with Alison's.

With every step Emily took towards her, Alison took a step back, keeping her at a distance to prevent another sudden takedown. They slowly dance around the ring, neither of them making a move as Emily continued to stalk her movements.

As Alison gives herself enough space to think of her next action, she swears Emily's eyes were seconds from flickering to a bright yellow, imitating a werewolf revealing themselves, to accompany her hunger.

" _Come on, Alison_ …Show me what you can do."

Feeling the adrenaline now coursing through her blood, Alison leaps forward with an extension of her arm, throwing out a high-aimed punch. Before any contact is made, Emily bobs out of the way, leaning her weight off her rear leg just for Alison's fist to miss her face. Although, the first throw was escaped, Alison starts propelling out combinations of punches in order to catch Emily in the midst of a few hits. And with each punch, Emily ducks, slips, and leans side to side to evade every single one of them.

Then….it's clicks for her.

 _She's actually trying to hit my face_.

The realization stuns Emily with the now serious match they found themselves in. Right as Alison goes to twist her body for a kick, Emily anticipates the strike and lunges for her lower half again, attempting another takedown. Alison locks her hold onto one of Emily's arms as she staggers backwards, not letting her lift her off the ground. Alison hops all the way back into one of the ring's turnbuckles, forcing herself to become heavier as Emily tries to get the edge over her. Alison hastily lets go of Emily and attempts to scoot of out her grasp but all Emily does is raise up and follow her, now pressing her chest against hers as she clutches the side of Alison's head.

Emily rests her head on Alison's shoulder, their panting starting to become harsher before she swipes the back of Alison's leg to make her fall onto the mat. Her attempt fails once again as Alison falters and wobbles herself out of the kick, making Emily lose her footing from how quickly she moved. As she jumped up in recovery to prevent giving Alison the opportunity to try to overpower her, Alison does just that and fires out an assault of strong left and right punches, actually catching Emily a few times in the face and abdomen as she tried to block as much as she could.

Tasting the fury of the punches that connected, a fire in Emily is ignited. She no longer saw this as a game or a little sparring match with someone who was inexperienced. Alison knew what she was doing and now it has turned into an actual brawl, a competition of domination to prove who the alpha female is. With all the hits she was now eating from Alison not letting up with her jab and punch combinations, Alison aims a kick for the back of Emily's knee when Emily instantly catches her leg with her left hand and heaves her right for an authoritative blow to Alison's shoulder in response.

While Alison stumbles backwards on one leg from the hit, Emily rushes into her like a linebacker and sweeps that leg, making Alison slam backwards onto the tough mat with Emily on top again. Alison wraps her legs around the Emily to limit her movements and Emily feels the immensely tight clench around her waist that restricts not only her body but her breathing as well. With her knees on both sides of Alison, Emily lurches forward in an attempt to grab her wrists.

However, this decision left Emily wide open. Getting a free shot, Alison throws out a calculated punch to a leaning in Emily only to miss and have Emily quickly hook her arm around her right bicep, squeezing it tight and in place before grabbing her left wrist to prevent Alison from getting any more hits in. Frustrated growls start rumbling out of the base of Emily's throat as Alison whimpered, trying to pull herself away but every time she moved, Emily moved with her.

"Stop moving." Emily snarls in a dangerously low grumble as she felt the sweat dripping down her neck in the seemingly now hot gym.

Alison refused to give up, yanking her hand from the tight grasp she desperately strained to get out of. Unfortunately, the hold only got tighter while Emily pressed herself against Alison's chest, her dog tags dangling as she stared deeply into her eyes. Alison groans in anguish to the arm submission while Emily watches and breathlessly repeats herself once more.

" _Stop. Moving._ "

Alison ceases all her attempts as commanded as she stared back specifically into Emily's grey eye. There was something striking about this moment, something Alison couldn't pinpoint. It could have been because of all the physical contact, Emily's growls, how she stared at her with this sense of aggression, or maybe all three. No words were spoken nor gestures made with Emily still holding down Alison's hands and Alison's legs wrapped around her waist. It wasn't until Alison finally nodded in an understanding when Emily let go and slowly rose her body weight off of her. Alison continued to stare up at Emily while Emily towered over her. Trying to be a 'good guy' in this predicament, Emily extends a hand to help Alison up.

Alison reached for Emily's aid and lifts herself up, then immediately swings for Emily's face yet again, almost as if she did not want to be the one to claim defeat. Emily's quick reflexes allow her to dodge Alison's fist and side-step around her, grappling her from behind. With force, she runs Alison chest first into one of the corner turnbuckles to trap her with nowhere to go, no way to escape. But then, it was like Alison gave up.

Without anything being said between them two, Alison feels Emily's chest heaving up and down in fatigue flush against her back, matching her breathing tempo. The warmth of her body along with the firmness of Emily holding her, Alison relaxes into her embrace. Just for a minute, there were no slick remarks, no perverted innuendos or attitudes. It was just them tiredly leaning against each other in support, Emily resting her forehead against the back of Alison's head as Alison listens to her pant in her ear.

…

After their more strenuous, "friendly" activity, both women sit on metal, foldable chairs as they try to regain their energy. Alison charitably grabs them both a Gatorade from a nearby vending machine and they appreciatively gulp down their drinks in silence.

Wiping her lips from the drips of liquid slipping out of her mouth, Emily looks towards Alison sitting across from her.

"How do you have access to the stuff here? You seem to be a little more privileged than everyone else. Unless this is a free-for-all spot that I don't know about."

With her cheeks full, Alison slowly swallows down her drink while she screw the lid back onto her bottle. "It's because of my brother." she finally answers. "He owns this place."

Emily's brows shot up, genuinely surprised at this slip of information. Not only about the gym but the fact that Alison has a brother. As odd as it may seem, Alison didn't seem like someone with siblings. But then again, it's probably her projecting her only child syndrome on everyone else.

"Wow. That…that definitely would explain a lot. Especially what you were pulling back there."

"It's pretty imperative to learn how to defend yourself as a girl. No way would he allow me to walk through the streets of this world without knowing a thing or two in case something happens."

"He taught you well." Emily nods, staring at her shoes she had just put back on after their sparring. "I know _I_ could probably teach you _more_ but, nonetheless, he did a good job."

Alison half-amusedly shakes her head. "I doubt that."

"Doubt that?" Emily repeats with a chuckle. "That arm lock I put you in? That was for pushing me into that pool."

"Something that was well deserved." Alison reminds her almost a matter-of-factly.

" _Eh_ ….That's debatable." Emily raises her drink to her lips before hesitating. "Normal people say _stop_ or _no_ if they don't like something, not resulting to assault."

Alison narrows her eyes in disbelief with her neck twisted at Emily and her lack of memory. "You didn't listen to me the first time I told you not to do something. I doubt you were going to magically obey the second or third time."

Emily nods her head as she takes several sips out of her bottle before closing the cap. " _Touché_. I thought we were having a moment, that's all."

Silence falls in-between them again as Alison fails to provide Emily with some kind of response to her statement. But as they sat, it wasn't some sort of awkward silence. It was a silence that made them wonder to themselves what the other person was thinking.

"At that dinner…" Emily speaks up, this time in a softer, humorless tone. "When you asked me if I just dump money into foundations to seem charitable without getting involved because I seem like I have other things that interest me, I wanted to tell you that you were way off."

This sudden change in conversation catches Alison's full attention, making her turn to face Emily as she spoke.

"Did you know that in just this county alone, there are about 3,000 homeless people? Both sheltered and unsheltered? Everywhere around us, everywhere we turn, there's a good handful of people without a place to stay?"

"I've seen them." Alison replies with a hint of somberness in her voice.

"Do you know how much that pisses people off? Like genuinely pisses them off in an asshat kind of way? All because people think it "ruins their business", it ruins their reputation if there's a homeless person in front of it." Emily shakes her head repulsively, keeping her eyes looking straight ahead.

"Store owners get so frustrated by the fact someone is sitting by the entrance of their establishment that they totally forget they're dealing with actual human beings with feelings. People who used to be someone but lost everything. Then, at night, where you have easily about 100 people sleeping, they'll blare this loud ass screeching noise of animals over a loudspeaker to shoo them away. Right there on First Street. It's incredibly _fucking_ dehumanizing."

Alison stares at Emily, completely speechless. She, in no way, anticipated things to turn into something so grave with the topic at hand. She didn't think Emily had the ability to be serious with the amount of faces she puts on. But as of right now, Alison quietly listens because it seemed like Emily had been thinking about her charity remark for a while since it's been days since they last saw each other.

"And you know what's worse than not having a place to stay? Not having resources to upkeep yourself. _Days_ and _weeks_ without showering, without clean clothes, or getting a hold of basic hygiene products. Not to even mention the homeless women who have to endure their periods every month with barely any ways to contain that."

Emily straightens her back against her chair, stretching her arms above her head. " _So_ …I went a step further past donating to foundations and decided to create my own haven. _Squeaky Clean._ "

For the first time since bringing this up, Emily tilts her head to look over at Alison who was gazing right at her.

"Have you heard of it?

"No…" Alison gently answers. This makes Emily laugh to herself.

"You didn't see anything about that during your little research of me?"

Alison bites her inner cheek as she shakes head again.

" _Hm_. Internet is not my greatest friend, I'm not surprised." Emily places her Gatorade on the floor next to her before she clasps her hands together and sighs in deeply.

"Bathing has been shown to be directly correlated with psychological release from guilt, shame, and stress. It's why so many ancient redemption practices, religious or not, involve ritual absolution. Because it's thought of as literally washing away your sins."

Emily's eyes began to wander as she hit on her last sentence and Alison noticed it immediately. This is exactly what she wanted out of Emily when she agreed to a dinner and it made her angry when she didn't get it. Especially when Emily led her on with saying she'd be able to meet the "real" her.

Their first meeting was at a party and, understandably, you're not expecting any kind of deep leveled connection right away but after a while, when you feel like you're interested in the person, you want to know more about them. But with Emily, that was almost impossible because she played too many games, had too many acts. It was to the point when you speak to her, you knew you were speaking to a caricature of herself. While she doesn't know if Emily is with this with every one or specifically to her but this crack Emily was letting light shine through? This is what she wanted from her.

Who is Emily Fields? What makes her _her_?

"What people tend to not realize is that, for the homeless, showering and finding a bit of privacy is harder than finding something to eat. _So_ , I created a bathroom on wheels. Almost like meal on wheels but instead of receiving food, you receive nice hot showers. Comes with different kind of soaps, toothbrushes, toothpaste, disposable razors, hand wipes, all of that good stuff."

"How…" Alison attempts to look for the right words to say. Now with this door opened, she had so many questions to ask but was unable to figure the right way to inquire them. It didn't help that she had to pick the right ones because she knew this kind of opportunity won't come easy again.

"How do you keep it clean? Do you hire cleaners after every use or?" she settles on an easy question that could maybe lead a direction for her to probe in more.

"You know how you have systems where you can buy things but it has no price? You simply pay how much you think the product or service is worth? Some people think this is a perfect way to get robbed of profit because people would not honestly pay a reasonable price for something. But, in actuality, people tend to pay more that way. Whether its guilt or an inflated sense of worth, whatever, but there are _more_ people that do good and give money reasonably than they are people that are cheap." Emily explains.

Within this enlightenment, it's being done in a way that Alison is beginning to see as really attractive.

While the physical aspect of their fighting was one thing, hearing Emily explain and speak on things that she's passionate about, it creates this level appeal that's _much more_ appealing than her strolling around as Miami's most wanted Bachelorette. Even the way she spoke was different and Alison could honestly sit and listen to Emily talk without any regard of time passing by.

Suddenly, as random as the thought is, Alison wondered if Emily's "right hand woman", Jenna Marshall, was able to see this side of Emily more than most because of the business they run together.

"We use that same kind of format for our utilities." Emily continued, unaware of the captivation behind Alison's eyes. "One of our mottos are to help keep things clean so the next person can get that great feeling you got. And with that, we leave little cleaning products around that'll help sustain the place. You'd be surprised at how many people will do their business and then freshen up the entire area like brand new."

Emily finds herself lightly smiling at this, remembering the interactions she had with people whenever she would show up or promote her service at different locations.

" _And that's the thing._ These people are not animals, they are not savages. They are regular people down on their luck. And honestly…they are some of the kindest people you'll ever meet.

"Why did you create this? What promoted you to make this a real thing?"

Emily gets quiet, appearing to be stewing in her thoughts for a moment before she answered.

"You have no idea how much of your dignity is lost when you're being forced to withstand your own grime all because you have no able way to take care of it." she bites down her lip solemnly before she reaches down her feet and grabs her drink, reopening it for another swig.

Alison nods to herself, dropping her eyes to her phone in her lap.

" _Yeah_ …it truly is dehumanizing."

 **If you were around reading Trouvaille in the summer of 2016, you** _ **probably**_ **remember one of the scenes written up there from a little contest I did back then. Now, you have it in full context. Crazy to think I've been developing this story since 2016. Hopefully, you all are enjoying the wild ride so far.**

 **This chapter was not only a fairly steamy one, but it's littered with all kinds of "literature symbolism" - some things that show a more complex side of the girls. Like for example, Emily and how she interacted with the women at Alison's job. Gives you a better idea of who you're reading.**

 **Alison mentioned how many acts Emily has. Do you think Emily was having a genuine moment with her at the end or was it more constructed? You always have to ask yourself when dealing with Emily Fields today.**

 **What are your thoughts towards Emison's little work out time? Did you like it the way I did? I dunno but think they liked it too.**


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